House's Civic Duty
by Jazelle1996
Summary: After chapter 25, this story has now gone from the Trial adventures to normal, everyday run of the mill activities at Princeton. But as promised, there will be lots of twists and turns, because Kathi is STILL in critical condition!
1. Chapter 1

-1HOUSE'S CIVIC DUTY

Chapter One - Domesday Letter

Dr Lisa Cuddy sat behind her desk slowly reviewing the paperwork of a 13-year old girl complaining of chest pain after playing soccer at school. The MRI showed a mass in the lower right quadrant of her heart and as she silently closed the manila folder she thought to herself, 'Sometimes I just _hate_ my job.'

It suddenly dawned on her that she was hungry. She glanced at her watch and sighed as she realized it was almost 3 o'clock. She pushed herself away from her desk when she heard her office door swing open but tried to ignore her guest before she stood and walked towards the door. After a few steps she found an envelope being flung into her hands but being caught off guard the envelope fell to the floor.

"Good catch there, boss," House snickered. "I bet you were the last one picked for the baseball team, weren't you?" He continued to tease her, narrowed his eyes and lifted the corner of his lips into a mocking smile.

"No, it was the moronic kid with the pimply face who tripped over his own shoe laces. You can relate to him, right?" she shot back as she reached for the door to open it then walked out into the hall. Just as the door closed behind her House quickly picked up the envelope and was out the door and at her heels.

She continued walking towards the elevator as she said, "I'm impressed. I haven't seen you move this quickly since that 17 year old was chasing after you. How is she, by the way?" she asked as the door opened and they both entered with a few other patients. Again he grinned wickedly.

"Oh, Ali is fine, Cuddy. But what I want to know is how _could_ you have turned her down when she came to your house that night?" The lone man in the elevator turned to look at Cuddy and winked at her. "Ali's quite the little cheerleader. She does these _awesome_ splits...well, I'd have to draw you a picture. But she could teach you a few tricks. 'Cuddy, Cuddy, she's our man!' Oh, wait, you're _not_ a man, right? Didn't you ever take that test to determine that?"

She shot House a nasty look just as the elevator dinged as it stopped on the third floor. "House, this is your floor. The psyche ward is the second door on the left." The man that winked at her walked out and the doors closed again.

"I need a favor, Cuddy," House asked.

"Wow. You need something from me _again_ and you treat me like this?" she asked incredulously as the doors opened and she exited with House closely behind.

"Well, yes. I always treat you like this. You love it. And slow down! I'm still a cripple."

She stopped in her tracks, turned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Whatever gave you the idea that I liked it? And stop playing 'the cripple' card," she said as she turned and continued walking down the hall.

He was silent for a moment until they entered the cafeteria and headed for the food counter. "I'll buy you lunch," he offered.

"Really? You need a favor _that _badly that you'd buy me lunch?"

"Sure. As long as it's…" House removed what change he had in his jacket pocket then continued, "less than $2.36."

"Oh, you are _such _the big spender, aren't you? I'm gonna have to pass," she said as she grabbed a yogurt and placed it on her tray.

"Ok, ok, you can have a soda along with that yogurt."

"House, knock it off. I'm not in the mood right now. I've got to tell a 13 year old she has a tumor on her heart and it's inoperable," she said forlornly as she grabbed a chicken salad sandwich.

He was quiet for a moment before they stopped at the register. He reached into his other pocket for more money and handed it to the cashier.

"It's $6.73; I need 32 more cents," she said.

"What! It's that much?" House replied rather loudly before he turned to Cuddy. "Do you have 32 cents I can borrow?" Cuddy rolled her eyes and pulled out the change from her purse then handed it to the woman.

"I'd start packing my lunch if I were you, Cuddy," House said as they walked to a table and they both sat down.

"No, if I were you I'd eat everyone else's…" Cuddy smacked House's hand as he reached across to grab her pickle before he could touch it, "…food."

The two doctors sat in silence as House sat back in the chair watching Cuddy eat her sandwich. After several minutes and severed nerves on her part she asked, "what's the favor?"

"Ah, thanks for playing. Thought you'd never ask," he answered as he pulled a folded page from the envelope and handed it to her.

She looked over the paper, and with every word her grin got larger and larger, as if she were to bust out laughing at any moment.

"Jury duty!" she asked and then couldn't control her laughter. When she calmed down she said, "God help the defendant that gets you on their jury."

"Very funny. I need you to get me out of it."

"How? And why? Wait, no way! I am not going to lie for you to get you out of it, House, no matter _what_ you do."

"Oh, come on, Cuddy! I've been a good boy lately! You wouldn't want me to have a relapse, would you?"

"Sure, yes. Let me see you relapse. I'll call a doctor right away," she replied, meeting his challenge.

"Can't you just tell them I have clinic duty eight hours a day and that there is no other doctor to fill in for me?"

"I can give you the names of three doctors who would do it in a heartbeat if it meant not having to work with you for a day. According to those papers you have five days to find a good excuse why you _can't_ serve, House. And you better think quick."

House gave her a look that would sear through her if his eyes were laser beams. He watched intently as she stuffed the last bite of the chicken sandwich into her mouth.

And instantly an idea popped into his head.


	2. Chicken Fiasco

THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS, EVERYONE! And WELCOME all new readers. I've missed writing stories and am disappointed I couldn't use my pain-killer induced dreams into House stories. But I think that's a good thing; they would have been too far out there for anyone to follow anyways. Anywhoo…enjoy.

CHAPTER TWO - Chicken Fiasco

Later that evening House walked into his apartment and threw the few items on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of beer from the 6-pack and quickly emptied it, relishing in the taste as if it were the first beer he'd ever drank. He looked at the packaged item and decided on making just a plain chicken breast sandwich. He walked to the refrigerator, took out the half-empty can of mayonaisse and set it on the island.

Half an hour later the chicken was baked and on a plate ready for the final condiments. He put the chicken breast on a hoagie roll, spread a healthy portion of mayonaisse on both sides, set the plate aside, grabbed another beer and walked into the living room, setting heavily down on the couch as if he'd just run 20 miles on an uphill slope.

He woke up with a start a few hours later and groaned at the static the t.v. was giving off from the channel that had gone off the air. He slyly grinned, headed for the kitchen and stood looking at the sandwich that had been sitting out for four hours now.

He grabbed the plate, another cold beer and headed back to the living room, sitting down in the center of the couch but leaning forward at the coffee table. He took a long, hard swallow of the beer, set it down and hesitantly took a bite of the sandwich.

'_mm, tastes okay to me. This better work, damnit!_

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Dr James Wilson sat in his office early the next morning and dreading the Board meeting scheduled for 3 o'clock that afternoon. He had gotten back in the good graces of the others on the board but was still a bit unnerved at the thought that they didn't back him up with Vogler.

Besides, his mind was on other matters at the moment: like House. With all the conniving he'd done with Cuddy (without one ounce of regret) he couldn't keep his mind on anything else. He'd thought of _everything_ to get House back on the right track but nothing had worked. In fact, House had gotten worse in Wilson's opinion. Wilson had pushed House into every direction and had gotten resistance from him. But what he hadn't come to terms with yet was the realization that maybe he never _would_ be able to 'help' him.

_Help_ him? _Or change him into who I want him to be?_ That thought had crossed his mind over and over and he couldn't understand why he felt the urge to do so - to make him a better person; make him into someone who is more accepting of the things around him; make him more like…like…Wilson?

His train of thought was interrupted by his office door opening and speaking of the devil…

"Wow, House. You look like my cat after it had gotten into the oil under the car in the garage and was almost poisoned to death…oh, wait a minute…" Wilson stopped himself in the middle of his own sentence.

He looked over House as if he were a beauty pageant queen and he was rating each contestant. He mentally wrote down his observations: complexion shade of pukey green with a flushed appearance; eyes red and swollen; hands shaky; hunched over as if he were an 80 year old man.

"House, what have you done?" Wilson finally asked as House collapsed into a chair opposite his desk, after throwing a piece of paper on Wilson's desk.

"I need you to sign that," House muttered. It took Wilson a second to figure out exactly what he'd said.

After he reviewed the paper he threw it back at House and said, "No, House. I will _not _sign that for you." For just a split second Wilson was proud of himself for saying no to House for trying to evade jury duty. "Yeah, I know about your call to the human race, aka jury duty. Cuddy told me you'd probably try something."

"I didn't do anything," House groaned, his cheeks briefly exploded as if he were holding back a burp, but with that recognizable shade of vomitus explodius green Wilson knew he was lying. "I ate some bad chicken."

"Oh. Tell me where you ate the bad chicken and I'll make sure I never eat there … wait. House, tell me you didn't."

House looked at Wilson perplexed and greener than any green found on the planet earth. "Didn't what?" House asked innocently.

Wilson sat back in his chair and shook his head. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"When did you eat the bad chicken?" Wilson asked, annoyed that he had to continue this game with House.

"It was like midnight, I think. I woke up at 4:30 and have been … been …" House grew silent before he lunged forward, grabbed a flower pot with an obvious fresh, new plant, tore the plant out and threw up in the empty pot. He placed the pot back on Wilson's desk and sat back in the chair. "… throwing up ever since."

Wilson himself looked like he was going to hurl before he grabbed his trash can, placed the pot in the bottom, walked to House's office door, opened it and placed it inside his friend's own office.

"Hey! I don't want that in there! It smells!" House protested.

"Well, you ate it. It's yours."

"That's so…oh…oh…" and with that House ran into his office, grabbed the pot and threw up again.

Wilson, on the other hand, stood by his desk and simply watched House. Of course, so were Drs Chase, Cameron and Foreman, all four with looks of disgust on their faces.

When House's spasms were finally finished, Wilson quietly joined House and waited for House to stand. "Come on, loser. You need fluids," Wilson said as non-judgmentally as he could.

"I need that paper signed," House corrected, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Nope. You'll just have to suffer and fill it out yourself," Wilson said.

"What's going on?" Cameron asked.

"Your boss here ate bad chicken on purpose to get out of jury duty," Wilson informed them.

"No way," Chase piped in.

"Figures," Foreman added.

House looked up at Wilson with a dirty look on his face until a shivering spasm overtook his body and he hugged himself from the chill that ran through his body.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

A few hours later, House and Wilson walked out of exam room three after the bag of fluids and Compazine had been given to the 'patient.' House averted Cuddy as she left her office and walked towards them.

"Is that where you two have been the past three hours?" Cuddy demanded to know.

"Uh, no. We've just come from a cruise, but NumbNutz here neglected to inform me it was a gay cruise. I didn't know he was gay, did you, Cuddy? That might interfere with Wonder Sperm giving you a baby," House quipped as he stumbled a bit with the cane, almost causing it to slip out of his hand.

"Wilson, take him back to his office and make sure he fills out that jury form correctly. I think we all need a vacation away from him," Cuddy ordered and went back to her office.

"Wow, she looks hot in that turtle neck. They are _so _sexy, don't you think?" House joked as they walked to the elevator.

"Shut up, House."

_Darn. Darn. Darn. Darn. Maybe I can answer the D.A.'s questions wrong and they won't pick me._

That was the only hope House had to get out of jury duty. But to his dismay, he would soon find that no matter what he'd ever think of trying to do to get out of it, jury duty would be added to his list of things in his life that he wished he'd never had to deal with.


	3. Game of 20 Questions

-1CHAPTER THREE - Game of Twenty Questions

Later that night, House sat on the couch in the living room. Although music from The FluMonks was playing on the Bose entertainment system in the background, he was hardly paying attention to the melodic tones of the violin against the raging emotion of the guitar's heart. He simply kept changing the channels on the t.v., never stopping long enough to concentrate on any one channel.

He still wasn't feeling well, even though he forced down some beef bullion soup that tasted like ringed out dirty water from a month's worth of 'wearing the same pair of socks,' (not that he'd ever _tasted_ any, but that's what the kid said it tasted like when he made a schoolmate of his try it on a dare). Occasionally a sharp pain would rip through his stomach and he'd race to the bathroom before all hell broke loose, literally.

What he was really avoiding was the two pages of questions that he had to fill out, no thanks to his trusting and loyal friends that he had, as few as they were. Eventually he looked over at the tri-folded pages, sighed deeply, reached over for his bottle of Vicodin on the end table and downed a few with the last remnants of a mega-sized bottle of water. He propped a pillow on his knees, grasped the pen in his shaking hand and placed the papers on the pillow.

He spent a few more minutes flipping through t.v. channels but finally found the discipline to start filling out the questionnaire.

FULL NAME: Sherlock Holmes

ADDRESS: Baker Street, next to Starbucks

NATIONALITY: 80 German, 12 English, 8 Irish Setter

OCCUPATION: King of the World

DATE OF BIRTH: Never ask a woman her age

PLACE OF BIRTH: In a land far, far away

MEDICAL CONDITION PREVENTING YOUR SELECTION OF JURY DUTY; Yes, I bite

PLEASE EXPLAIN: Scratch, too

Suddenly his train of thought (of whatever little thought there was coming from his brain) by a hard rap on the front door.

"Ah, darnit. I was just getting into it," he mumbled as he threw the items on the couch and went to answer the door, spying into the peep hole first. "My rescuer hath arriveth." His face contorted into what he hoped would be pain and pinched both his cheeks to make them look flushed and bent over.

As he opened the door he groaned, "Jimmy! I need your help." Wilson frowned with worry as he looked upon House's 'self-induced, pathetic attempt at Jury Suicide' and entered.

As House closed the door Wilson turned to look at him. "You look awful. You still sick?"

"No, couldn't feel any better," he answered as he grabbed his stomach and shuffled his feet back to the couch, sitting down heavily.

"Have you taken anything since this morning?" Wilson asked concerned.

House looked up at him like a puppy dog wanting a bone. "No, I said I feel better. But I need you to do my homework. My hand is too shaky and my vision is blurred and…"

Wilson threw his head back, the sympathetic look drained from his face and he put his hands on his hips as it suddenly dawned on him what House truly meant.

"Filling out the Jury paper, aren't you? Oh, God, I can't _wait_ to see this."

Wilson picked up the papers on the couch, sat down and looked at the first answer. "Sherlock Holmes?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, and you're Watson."

"You are so sad, House."

"Would you have me any other way?"

"I wouldn't want you any way at all."

"Oh. Ok, so then, that won't work. Darnit. Want a beer?" House asked. Wilson nodded his head. "They're in the fridge. Get me one too, will ya?"

Wilson snickered before he retrieved a beer for himself and another glass of water for House. When he returned to the couch he noticed what was on the t.v. "The Adventures of Pippie Longstockings?"

"I haven't seen this movie since…since…I was a little girl. Now shut up and finish the questionnaire," House ordered.

"Didn't we already have this conversation this morning? I will _not _help you!" Wilson said firmly.

"If you don't I'll tell nurse Brenda you want her."

"She wouldn't believe you."

"Why not? Is she a lesbian? I heard the rumor…no, wait, I _started_ the rumor."

Wilson rolled his eyes before he drew his attention to the rest of the questions. "She probably turned you down after you asked her out to dinner. She's a smart woman."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

The next morning, Wilson met Cuddy outside her office door.

"Oh, God. Did House kill a patient already?" she asked as she unlocked the door.

He followed her into her office and unfolded two papers and showed Cuddy.

"Oh, you're kidding me, right? He filled this out? Have a seat, Watson. We have some questions to answer," Cuddy said as she went to a filing cabinet, searched for a particular manila folder and sat back down.

And the two proceeded to complete the questionnaire the _correct_ way.


	4. Jury Doody

-1CHAPTER FOUR - Jury Doody

Several weeks later, House sat on the round, revolving stool in exam room two, slowly pushed it back and forth and looked at a woman of about 45, who had come in complaining about a swollen tummy, nausea, water retention, the sweats, and unexplained weight gain/increase in appetite.

"When was the last time you did the horizontal bop?" House asked, not looking at the woman but at the fly that was head butting the window looking for an escape.

'_Oh, do I know how you feel,' _he thought to himself about the fly. While the woman was answering his question he walked to the window, unlocked it, raised the screen and shwoosed the fly out.

"Fly, be FREE!" House said as he closed the window and returned to the stool.

"Have you heard a word I've said?" she asked angrily as she watched him sit back down.

"Ah, on the contrary, you said it has been almost three months with your loser boyfriend who was cheating on you with your best friend from college. Well, based your hormonal swings I'd say you are about three months preggers. Congratulations." House stood and walked to the door.

"I never said my boyfriend was having an affair … wait, WHAT? You tell me I'm pregnant with no blood test? There's no WAY … "

House slowly turned and looked at her. "Ok, then, have you eaten the seeds from any watermelons over the summer? 'Cuz there's something growing inside you and I'd LOVE to write a medical paper on you when a watermelon pops out. Call me in six months." House answered and closed the door behind him.

He walked upstairs, grateful that it was 4 o'clock and it was time to go to home. When he turned the corner he saw only Cameron still in the diagnosis room and reading his mail.

'_I've got to give her something more productive to do,' _he thought to himself as he walked in.

"Forward any of my bills to Cuddy's inbox," he snickered as he started for the door to his office.

"Wait, you need to see this," Cameron said as she stood and walked towards him, handing over a piece of paper. House simply looked at it, without really reading it, and never reached for it. "You'll want to read this. It's from Mercer County Courthouse. Seems you've been selected for jury duty."

House instantly frowned and snatched the paper out of her hand. He frowned even more when he saw that he had indeed been chosen in the second step of the jury selection process.

"Hmm, Oct 3rd - don't I have surgery that day?" He asked as he turned and walked into his office. He noisily threw his duffle bag from the floor onto his desk, threw a few items in the bag and stepped out from behind his desk.

"You don't do surgery," she stated, blocking his escape.

"I do now."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I DO!" he insisted.

"House, you can't get out of this. My cousin tried to 'ignore' the same type of letter and spent two weeks in jail with contempt."

"Oh, no big deal. I've been in prison before," he answered, daring her to move out of his way. She didn't budge.

"I believe you, too. It states at the bottom that if you don't appear you could face … "

"I know what it says. Now move."

"Not until you say you'll go."

"Ok, I'll go," House said, but she still didn't move.

"I don't believe you," she said, crossed her arms and stood her ground.

"Cameron, you are NOT my mother and have no right to tell me … "

"Is there a problem, here?" Wilson asked as he entered the room. "I thought we were going for drinks, House."

"We are. As soon as Judge Judy here moves out of my way."

Cameron turned to look at Wilson. "He's avoiding jury duty … " she stopped herself when she felt something, or someONE, brush against her. She quickly turned around to see that House had slipped past her and was heading for the door.

"House … HOUSE!"

He ignored her hollers of protest as both he and Wilson walked into the hallway.

"Wow, she's getting bossy, isn't she? You need to put a stop to that," Wilson said with a slight grin on his face.

"Nah, I like it."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Over drinks, Wilson had finally convinced House that there was no way he could avoid not appearing for the court date.

"What I want to know is how I _was _selected. You saw those answers I wrote." Wilson ignored House's question and emptied his bottle of beer. House never took his eyes off of Wilson. "You took the papers, didn't you? No wonder I couldn't find them. Did you fill them out?" House asked accusingly.

"Want another beer?" Wilson asked, pretending not to hear House's accusation as he raised two fingers to the bartender, indicating two more beers.

"That's illegal," House said, a bit of a tone of anger in his voice.

"So is avoiding jury duty," Wilson answered as he handed House his beer.

"You wouldn't have done that on your own. Did you get Cuddy involved in any way?"

"No, but it was her idea."

House furrowed his eyebrows. 'No, cuddy wasn't involved but it was her idea?' That doesn't make sense. She SO owes me credit clinic hours. And you, my little grasshopper, are learning very quickly in House Sneakiness 101," House said and both men laughed.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Next chapter, House DOES go to court and faces the attorneys on a case that House has NO interest in being involved in, not that he really knows what it is yet. But the barrage of questions gets him off his game (soley caused by his leg pain) and he wonders what the verdict will be.

DOES, OR DOES HE NOT, serve jury duty??


	5. Call to Court, Part One

CHAPTER FIVE – Call to Court, Part One

The dreadful day arrived and House had trouble slipping out of bed; well, actually it was no different than any other day. He showered, taking 30 minutes longer than he normally did. He ran cold water over his head and let it cascade down his shoulders and back. His leg still hurt, of course, but he'd popped two Vicodin before he even got in the shower. He would pop two more before he left his apartment an hour later.

He arrived at the courthouse 15 minutes late, hoping that maybe he'd missed his appointed time. The clerk at the front desk told him to go to room 215 without any further instruction.

As he opened the door to room 215 he looked at the 30 or so people that were sitting in chairs, looking as forlorn and apprehensive as he felt. He spotted a chair next to a blonde woman sitting in the corner, reading a Cosmo. Undoubtedly he didn't overlook her long, tanned legs that ran up the black, silk skirt and the low cut, lavender blouse with a few buttons undone to reveal a subtle cleavage.

Although he instantly wished he didn't have the stupid cane, he slowly walked over and sat down as coolly as he could without showing too much pain on his face. Without turning his head in her direction his eyes averted to her chest again.

"When I'm done you can read this if you want," she said, without looking at him. "I only read them for the articles anyway." That made House smile and they looked at each other for the first time.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" House said, trying to sound sexy and nonchalant.

"Wow. That was lame. I think you should read the article on page 76, '25 Pick Up Lines to Avoid.' I think you'll learn a thing or two." Her assertiveness caught him off guard, which was rare for him, not that he was complaining.

"What are we supposed to do now?" House asked.

She turned back to her magazine and said, "Well, I'm not giving you my phone number."

Just then a door opened and a man hollered out, "Kathleen Gilmore."

"Well, that's me," the woman said. She stood, handed him the magazine, said, "page 76 – there's a quiz when I get back," and sauntered to the door.

A groan escaped his throat even before he'd realized he was drooling over her 'rear view exit' and the man on the other side of him turned and gave him a dirty look. "What!? She's hot!" House said. The man shook his head and continued reading his newspaper.

About ten minutes later Kathleen came back out and walked straight towards House and stood in front of him for a few seconds.

"Do you want my phone number, now?" House asked, giving a sly grin as if that would impress her.

"Tell you what. If we are both selected on the jury, then I'll give you my phone number after the trial."

"But I'm trying not to get select … oh, how did it go in there?"

"Grueling," she said as she reached out her hand for the magazine. House handed it to her. "I did my best to get out of it, but don't think I did a good job."

"How do you know?"

She gave him a cute smile, which disappeared very quickly and said seriously, "Because I'm psychic. Hope to see you again," she said as she turned and walked out of the room.

House nudged the man sitting next to him with his elbow and said, "Wow, think I scored." Again the man shook his head.

Just as House leaned his head up against the wall and closed his eyes his heard a door open and a man call his name. House didn't budge.

"Gregory House!" the man repeated rather irritated. Again House didn't answer. "By order of the court, if no one claims to be Gregory House he will be held in contempt of court. So, I say once more, Gregory House."

House took in a deep breath before he lifted his head, grabbed his cane and walked to the man. As he got closer he stopped a few feet away and said, "I was asleep. Can you hold a man in contempt if he's sleeping?"

The man stepped aside for House to walk through the door without a word and he did so. He wasn't quite prepared for what he saw but he wasn't too nervous. A judge sat behind a bench and two mahogany tables set up in front of it, with three men sitting at each with a briefcase and several sheets of paper scattered across them.

He was directed to a stand directly between the tables, in front of the Judge.

"Please stand your full name," said a man in the corner of the room.

"Gregory John House."

There was silence in the room for a brief moment before the Judge said, "Mr. Tanner, you may begin." There was the echoing sound of a chair being pushed on the tile and House turned to look at the man who stood and approached him.

"May I have your age and occupation, please?" Tanner asked.

"47 – doctor."

"Doctor of what?" House rambled off his many specialties with an arrogance that seemed to annoy the attorney.

"Mr. House … "

"I just said I was a doctor," House snapped.

"Oh, beg your pardon, _Doctor_," Tanner replied with a tone of sarcasm. "Have you or anyone in your immediate family ever been in a serious car accident?"

"No."

"May I ask how you injured your leg?"

"Infarction," he simply answered.

"Can you please explain what an infarction is?" House explained the entire circumstances surrounding the incident.

"I see. And do you harbor any anger toward the person who went against your wishes?"

House was silent for a moment. He had to dig deep inside himself to answer the question correctly. "I got over it."

"'You got over it?' How do you mean?"

House swallowed hard, for he wouldn't even admit to himself if he was truly over it or just said that to evade the question. "Wouldn't you be?"

"Dr. House," the Judge interrupted. "Please answer the question directly. There is no need to be defensive."

House turned towards the Judge then back to the attorney. "I played golf. I ran daily. I woke up every morning with no pain. I could climb stairs. I liked my leg; my leg liked me. I was living with a woman who took that all away from me …"

"Dr. House, a simple yes or no will suffice," Tanner said.

After a moment House said, "Yes."

Tanner nodded his head and continued the barrage of questions. House answered all of Tanner's questions as best as he could but the Judge was growing more and more impatient with House's attitude.

CHAPTER WILL BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO SHORTLY


	6. Call to Court, Part Two

CHAPTER FIVE – Call to Court, Part Two

As Tanner finished his questioning the judge addressed Sam Smithers, the attorney at the other table. He stood, straightened his suit and paced a few steps between the judge and House for a moment or two.

"Dr. House, would you say you were raised in a loving household?"

House's eyebrows furrowed before he answered, "Somewhat."

"Can you clarify that, Dr. House?"

"Mother loved me; Father hated me. Therefore I am."

"Dr. House, please take this proceeding seriously," the Judge said angrily. House rolled his eyes and gave the attorney his attention.

Smithers continued his questioning. "You were an only child?"

House nodded his head. The judge intervened again by saying, "Dr. House, please verbalize your answer for the court reporter." House shuffled his feet uncomfortably before answering 'yes.'

"The incident with your leg must be awfully painful. Have you ever sought retribution for the damage to your leg?"

House was silent for a moment. "No."

"Oh. So you never blamed your ex-girlfriend for making the medical call? After all, she _was _your medical proxy, was she not?"

"Yes."

"What? Yes to blaming your ex or yes that she was your medical proxy?"

"Both."

"And can you verify again the answer you gave that you nor anyone in your family had been in any serious type of vehicular accident, Dr. House?"

House didn't immediately answer the question. "I had a younger sister," he answered solemnly.

"Had? What do you mean?"

"She was killed in a car accident at 22."

"Dr. House, I must remind you, and for the _last_ time, that I will not put up with your disrespect to this court with your lying. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Judge Wapner." The Judge gave him a dirty look and made a note on a piece of paper.

Smithers continued. "How was she killed?"

"She hydroplaned on a rainy night and sideswiped a tree. She was killed instantly."

"And there were no other vehicles involved?"

"No."

"Judge Sasser, under the circumstances with this hostile candidate, may we approach the bench?"

The Judge nodded his head and hit a button on his microphone as the two attorneys stood in front of the Judge. There were many hushed whispers that House couldn't ascertain, but from the gesturing of Tanner's arms and the frustration in the face of the Judge, House knew it couldn't be good.

Well, not good for them but good for House. He knew his goal of being a jerk worked and that he wouldn't have to face jury duty.

The two attorneys headed back to their tables while the Judge said, "You may continue with the questioning, but I warn you again, Dr. House, watch yourself."

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Several minutes later House walked out of the courtroom feeling completely defeated. He'd done his best to avoid being chosen, and was so confident that he decided to treat himself to a steak; even though it was early, 11:30, but he sure didn't want to go into work.

He walked into an almost empty LoneStar Steakhouse and was seated in a booth by the window, just like he liked. He had never felt secure if he couldn't see the outside world from any closed environment. He always had to feel one step above the actions of the world, just in case something came his way he'd be prepared. But more than once life threw some crap at him, and he tried to handle it, he really did.

His father was always hard on him to "toughen up, be a man" while his mother had comforted him by telling him that he would always be a man to her and how much she loved him. But deep down he'd never quite truly believed it.

House had never accepted himself for who he was. He'd always tried to change to make his father happy. But it was never good enough. He figured out by the time he was 14 that he'd have to make himself happy; call his own shots, regardless of the consequences; do things that he felt were right, even though some were wrong; experience the world in his own eyes, not his father's.

Even though it sucked, he'd grown to be accepting of the possibilities of _anything_ that he'd ever come across, whether it was an Egyptian coin over 2,000 years old and wonder what life would have been for him if he were in that time, or any other time in history for that matter, or the bones of a rat he'd found in the backyard.

House sighed, reached for the menu and looked over the size and cut of steak that he wanted when he felt someone standing a few feet away, staring at him. He looked up to see the same blonde that was in the waiting room at the courthouse and a crooked smile escaped his lips.


	7. One of the Lucky Ones

CHAPTER SIX – One of the Lucky Ones

He looked her over for a brief moment, making a mental note of her name tag on her left shirt collar, 'Kathi.'

"Uh, hi," she said as she approached and stood at the end of the booth table. "What can I get you to drink?" she asked, pretending she didn't recognize him from earlier that morning.

House noticed she was a bit unsteady on her feet, although she looked well, but he arrogantly attributed it to her being nervous in his presence. "Raspberry tea."

She nodded her head and jotted it down on her pad. "Is that your phone number?"

She looked up at him, brushed her long bangs aside and said, "Depends."

"Depends on what?" House asked, highly intrigued.

"Depends on how much you tip me." She then turned and walked away from him.

House blankly looked out the window and felt a little giddy inside. Even after the horrible morning he'd had things were looking up for him. At least she wasn't a 17 year old with a disease that made her throw herself at him. That was the most crushingly thing that had ever happened to him, aside from Stacy leaving him. He'd finally felt sexy and a man again without his cane, even though his limp was there it wasn't as bad as it had been.

She quickly returned with his tea and sat down across from him. House's eyes flew open at her aggressiveness, or was it stupidity? He anxiously looked around the room looking for an excuse for her to leave with the other patrons, but there were only three other tables occupied. He cleared his throat and sipped his tea, returning his stare back at her.

"I never caught your name," she said.

"House."

"Ah. I assume your parents gave you a first name?"

"Greg."

"I'm Kathi. Did you realize you are pathetically failing the flirting quiz?"

House couldn't help but grin. "I didn't know I was being tested."

"Always," she said sexily. "So, what do you want?"

House didn't skip a beat. "World peace."

"Very admirable. But what do you want for lunch?"

"To end hunger."

Kathi sighed but never lost the curiosity of this man in her eyes, then stood up. "Well, if you're running for Ms America, I think you passed. Let me be more specific: what do you want to eat for lunch -- chicken, steak, hamburger or shrimp? Baked potato or fries? A salad?"

"I'll take the 9-oz Rib eye, medium rare, no seasoning, baked potato with lots of butter and sour cream, garden salad with honey-mustard dressing and another tea."

"Just what I like -- a man that knows what he wants." As she finished writing down all he'd ordered, she looked up at him and froze, just froze. House didn't know if he had a booger hanging from his nose or if she had gone into a catatonic state, but it was starting to make him feel uncomfortable.

"Uh, did you forget to write something down?" he asked nervously.

"No, I didn't notice your eyes earlier. Wow. Uh, I'll go place your order." She turned and walked away.

Again, House couldn't resist watching her walk away: the curve of her hips, the sexy sway back and forth, her long, well-defined calves. He thirstily downed his tea and it suddenly grew hot in the restaurant.

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Several weeks passed anxiously for House and he had just forgotten all about the jury selection when he stepped into his office that Monday morning and faced his three Muskateers, who were busy fighting crime – or in their case, diseases.

As usual, and pathetically, Cameron was opening House's mail and frowned when she came across another envelope from Mercer County Courthouse. She followed him into his office but he ignored her, as usual.

"You got another one," she said as she handed him the envelope.

He simply looked at it, looked her right in the eyes, reached for his iPod, put on the headphones and sat back in his chair smugly. She kept eye contact with him, threw the envelope on his desk and walked out without saying a word.

Several minutes passed and he finally opened his eyes, reached for the envelope and opened it.

"No…no…no…no way!" House said out loud, so loud that the three ducklings looked at him with confused faces, even though he didn't look in their direction.

The letter read:

'Dr. Gregory House,

You have been selected as a panel for jury duty. Please arrive at the Mercer County…'

"No…no…NO!"


	8. Gotta love House's Sense of Humor

CHAPTER SEVEN – Gotta Love God's Sense of Humor

"But I CAN'T leave work! You KNOW how important work is to me!" House pleaded, while using his best pathetically boyish expression on his face that he could muster. "You CANT' do this to me!"

"House, you know there is nothing more I'd want to do than to say 'no' to you, but you know how much I _love_ to say it. I _live _for it. And since when has clinic duty ever been that important to you?"

"What about my entourage? You know they can't be left alone … "

"House, knock it off. They're not children. They'll be fine without you although, I'm sure you'd like to think otherwise. And I'm not buying your little attempt here."

"All you have to do is mention that I'm a drug addicted, narcissistic, pathetic excuse for a man and that I am the _last_ person that needs to be on any jury!"

Cuddy simply stared at him.

"Oh, come ON! Who are you going to put in charge? Don't tell me Foreman again."

"Well, no, actually, I was thinking more on the lines of Chase," she answered seriously. House stared at her blankly while a smile slowly crossed Cuddy's lips.

"I am legally bound to make you attend that trial. There is nothing I can do. My hands are tied."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Like what? To make you attend that trial? That's the last thing I'd want you to do, especially if it were my own trial," she replied with a smirk.

"No, I mean being tied … up. I can do that for you if you … "

"House, shut UP!" she shouted impatiently. "If you have a problem with my answer I suggest you visit the hospital lawyer. But they'll tell you the same th … "

Cuddy was met with the back view of House as the door slammed shut behind him.

A few minutes later he approached the lawyer's office, took a deep breathe and softly knocked on the door.

"No."

House opened the door and walked in.

"No," came again from the man sitting behind the desk.

House frowned. "No, what? I haven't asked anything yet."

"I know. No," he answered bluntly.

"Ok, so, wait, how much did Cuddy offer to pay you for saying no?"

"Fifty bucks."

"Figures."

House left the lawyer's office extremely irritated.

_I hate my life._

He'd hate his life even more when he faced his fellow jury members.

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House entered the secluded room next door to the court room and stared at the eleven faces that stared back at him. Some had smiles, some had frowns, some even appeared angry. But one smile in particular caught his eye. He met her eyes and walked over to her, set the cane against the wall and sat down.

"Guess we are one of the chosen few," she said.

"Unluckily chosen few, yes," House replied.

"How have you been, Greg?"

"Fine, Stacy."


	9. 1 of 50 Dates?

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I'm glad y'all like the story, although I wish I'd thought of this BEFORE our Dr House actually DOES go to court – but not for the same reasons. :o)**

**CHAPTER EIGHT **– 1 of 50 Dates?

House turned and looked blankly at the door that led to the courtroom, as if he waited for a puff of smoke that would overtake him and he'd be back in his apartment, drinking a beer and smoking a cigar. But that wasn't to happen, not with House. He never got any breaks, especially when it came to women.

He turned and looked around the room to 'read' the other jurers to see who would be the most difficult to persuade in whichever direction he needed _his_ decision of the case to be. He loved manipulating people, and hated those that could not be. He always had to have the upper hand, be in control.

His thoughts trailed off when he felt as if someone was piercing through his very soul. He turned to his left and noticed another familiar face – the blonde, Kathi.

'_She has a great smile. Man, why me? I've got my ex sitting to the right of me and a future ex sitting across from me. My life SO sucks right now.' _The song Stuck in the Middle with You popped into his head: "Hottie right across from me, an old ex to the right…stuck in the middle of this CRAP …"

The door leading to the courtroom opened and the bailiff told them to follow the protocol as was outlined in the Code of Court book as they entered the courtroom. House was jurer number 3, while Stacy was number 11 and Kathi was 8. (All that meant was that Kathi sat directly diagonal to his left, while Stacy sat in the front row two jurers over to his right.)

'_Oh, Lord, I won't make it. I won't, I tell you! I'll stop taking the Vic. I'll even stop seeing hookers (well, depending on how much they charge). Man, I'll even be nice to Chase but PLEASE let me make it out in one piece! PS-Give me Katie's phone number?'_

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Later that afternoon, the jury of 12 walked into the waiting room before they were to leave for the day. The bailiff closed the door behind him and read from a piece of paper, "Judge Sasser reminds each and every one of you that what has been discussed here MUST remain here. It is strongly advised to keep a low profile, as any obstruction in this case will severely jeopardize the outcome of the case. Be here tomorrow morning at 8:30 a.m." He then left the room and they quietly exited the room through another set of doors.

House's leg caused him a great deal of pain because he hadn't been able to take any Vicodin while sitting in the jurer's box; he hadn't taken any since he left his apartment. His grasp on the cane was harder than normal, causing the knuckles on his right hand to turn white. The cool autumn, early evening chill in the air hit his face as he stepped outside the building, which made him suddenly feel weak, forcing him to lean against the side of the building to get better control on his pain.

With his eyes closed he heard a voice and a soft touch on his right shoulder. "Are you okay?"

He opened his eyes and found himself looking down at Kathi; at her 5'4" and his 6'4", there was a lot for House to look down on.

He sheepishly lifted his eyes without moving his head and looked around. He did see Stacy walk away and she was headed towards Mark, who was no longer in a wheelchair and giving him a dirty look. He looked back down at his feet and slowly nodded his head. He didn't know why but was a little concerned about what Stacy would think, not that he thought she'd really care.

"Greg, you look a little pale. Are you sure?"

"I don't get out much. I burn too easily," House answered, not knowing for sure exactly _why _he'd said it; it sounded more stupid when he said it than when it was in his head. A grimace crossed his face but it was so much from the pain as it was from his own stupid answer.

"Okay, well, if you are sure. I'll see you tomorrow," Kathi said as she turned and started to walk away.

"Katie, wait," House called out after her. She turned around and walked back to him.

"It's Kathi. K-A-T-H-I. What?" she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look angry, but she really wasn't.

"Uh, Kathi, right, sorry. I was wondering if, uh, maybe you're hungry?" House stuttered, feeling like a stupid school boy asking his first girl to a school dance.

"Yeah, I am," she simply said and enjoyed seeing him squirm.

They stood staring at each other for an awkward moment, but one House actually liked. He looked deeply at the color of her eyes – blue/grey with specks of faint, orange/brown around the pupils. They weren't as brilliantly, azure, gorgeous blue as his own but he liked hers nonetheless.

"So am I," House stated. Feeling better, he shuffled to his feet and steadied himself on his cane. Again, they shared a moment of silence. _'Why was it so much easier when I asked Cameron out?'_

When House didn't say anything further she said, "Alrighty, then. Glad we got that straightened out. See ya later." She didn't move from her spot.

House raised his voice and practically screamed out, "Do you want to get dinner, uh, together? With me?" He hadn't meant to ask her so loudly but he just knew she was going to turn on her heels and bolt away and he wouldn't get the same amount of courage to ask her out again.

HHHHHHH - Coming up: the dinner between the two turns into a learning experience for House and an eye-opener to the case they were both on the jury for.


	10. Heinz 57

**CHAPTER NINE** – Heinz 57

An hour later, House and Kathi sat in a booth of a restaurant overlooking the intersection of Bain and Commonwealth. Their dinner hadn't come yet but he was sipping on a Scotch while she drank a Martini. He absentmindedly stared out the window and any conversation between them came from Kathi.

"And so when I was 16 I did the high school team under the bleachers after they creamed the Dodgers at Homecoming," she said off the top of her head, trying to get his attention. It worked.

House turned to look at her quickly; his head did a quick 'about face' and his eyes were the size of ping pong balls.

"Gotcha," she said with a laugh, which he returned. "I took you for the quiet type but I didn't think you'd be _this_ quiet. And you still look pale."

House looked at her trying to determine if she was just making conversation or was trying to get something out of him. He had trust issues, especially when it came to women. And he wasn't about to share his life story with her – not yet.

"It's my leg but I took something for it. I'm fine," which was the truth, since he'd taken his Vicodin he'd left in the glove compartment before meeting Kathi again at the restaurant.

She returned his watchful eye to determine if he was being purposefully evasive or really was in a lot of pain. She never had trust issues, and that's what got her into trouble, specifically when it came to men. But there was something about him that intrigued her so intensely that it became clear that this was going to be a great challenge – to get him to share his life story – but not quite yet.

"So, what do you think of the case?" she asked just as the waiter brought their entrees.

"Not on an empty stomach," he mumbled and dove into his steak without saying another word.

The two sat at the table eating in silence, but for some reason it didn't bother Kathi, and of course silence was just how House wanted to eat. After about ten minutes Kathi was halfway done eating when she placed the fork on the plate and sat back, sipping her third Martini and watched House.

'_Oh, God, she's watching me eat. That is_ so_ annoying … it's too quiet. Oh, this is perfect. I feel like fighting anyway.'_

"Do I have Heinz 58 on my chin or something?" House asked.

"No, and it's Heinz 57," she corrected.

"Then why are you staring at me? 58."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno. I just like watching men eat. It's a real turn on. Oh, and it's still 57."

"You always fight with your dates? And it's 58," he said as he put his own fork down and took a sip of water. He waved to the waiter to bring him another Scotch.

"No, of course not, just the ornery ones that feel the need to keep up stupid arguments. I just know I'm right. 57," she teased.

House couldn't help but smile at her, although he couldn't really place what it was that made him feel like this – like a high school kid (again) out on a dinner date with the head cheerleader. Except he wasn't in high school, he was a grown man. He shouldn't be feeling like this, none whatsoever.

"I don't think the guy ran the red light," House interjected out of the blue.

Like a heartbeat Kathi was right on the quick subject change and said, "Why?"

"I have my ways."

Kathi sighed but smiled. "Ah. Okay."

Again there was silence between them as they both finished their dinners and drinks. Tension was in the air that was only felt by House; Kathi, on the other hand, was more intrigued with the man by the second. After House paid the bill they left the restaurant and he walked Kathi to her car. She took her keys out of her purse and was about to put them into the door when House grabbed them and opened the door for her, handing her the keys back.

"Thanks for tonight. That was a nice way to unwind after today."

House stared at her for a moment before he asked, "Aren't you going to ask me about my leg?"

She looked down at his right leg, then the cane, then back up to his eyes. "No. I figure if you want to tell me you will."

House was awestruck though he didn't know why. Almost everyone seemed to have the need to know his business with his leg, and he assumed she was no different. But she was.

"Well, it's late, and we have to be back in court at 8:30. You gonna be okay driving home?" Kathi asked genuinely concerned after the three Scotch's he'd had.

"Oh, please. I'm fine. Kathi?" She had just sat down in her car without closing the door and looked up at him. "58."

Kathi smiled big at him but didn't argue with him. "See you in the morning."

House closed the car door for her and she headed down the street to make a U-turn toward her apartment. Just as she passed House standing on the street watching her she stuck her head out the window and screamed, "57!" and waved. He watched her drive until she disappeared from view.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number from memory.

"Hey. Meet me on Bain and Commonwealth," House ordered.

"Why?"

"Because Anjelina Jolie is here!" House said.

"You're the one that likes her, not me."

"That guy from Blackadder is in the restaurant here!"

"That British guy? What the hell is he doing in New Jersey? Look, I'm trying to eat dinner, here," the man said impatiently.

"Okay, okay. I need your opinion on something?"

"What is it? Can't I give it over the phone?"

"No, you can't. See you in a few," House said and hung up the phone, knowing for certain that Wilson would indeed meet him at the intersection.

NOTE: Bare with me……..the intersection plays an important part here, which will be better explained in next chapter. And, of course, so does Wilson:o) Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming!!!


	11. In Trouble Again

**CHAPTER TEN** – In Trouble Again

House stood at the corner of Bain and Commonwealth waiting impatiently for Wilson; it had been 30 minutes already and he was getting cold from the brisk wind of the incoming autumn.

He was about to call Wilson again when he recognized his Subaru approach the intersection. House intently watched the lights change and the pattern of other cars approaching the intersection. He nodded his head in satisfaction of his brilliance (although it seemed only he could see it sometimes) and smiled.

Wilson turned around and parked in front of House, turned off the ignition and got out of the car. As he walked towards House he said, "This had better be important. I had a date."

"Yeah, so did I," House answered, but he knew from Wilson's expression on his face he didn't believe him. "Really, I did."

"Uh, huh. Yeah, okay, I call your bluff. I didn't really have a date," Wilson corrected himself.

"Yeah, neither did I."

"OMG, House, what do you _want_?" Wilson asked angrily.

"When you approached the intersection, did you see the oncoming traffic?"

"What? You called me all the way out …" Wilson started to say but House interrupted him.

"Just humor me, will ya?"

Wilson eyed him suspiciously before he said, "Yes, I saw the cars coming."

"Was the light green or yellow?" House asked.

"Couldn't you have driven and tested it out yourself?" Wilson asked irritably. Normally he didn't mind sticking around to see the end of House's brain process but tonight was different. He _did _have a girl back at his apartment, and he was wasting valuable time.

"Yeah, but then it wouldn't have been as fun watching your face turn red. Now, green or yellow?"

"Green."

"Okay, thanks. You are excused," House told his friend.

"I'm excused? Oh, thank you, wise Master! Your leniency is so very much appreciated," Wilson answered sarcastically, with no smile on his face. He turned and walked to his car.

"And ask Bambi if she has a sister," House hollered out louder than he had to. A couple that had just walked out of the restaurant gave him a look of disgust. "He's my pimp," he told them with a smile on his face.

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Later the following afternoon …

"Excuse me, Dr. House? Dr. HOUSE?!!"

House was leaning back in a chair, his arms down the sides, his head back and snoring lightly. He had dozed off quite happily after the other 11 jurors were disputing over the case, and it was only the second day. Now it was all a waste of time for House as far as he was concerned, especially after what he'd discovered the night before with the help of his 'assistant.' He jerked roughly awake and looked around the room, with all 22 eyes piercing at him.

"Dr. House, are we wasting your time?" a man in a business suit asked, who was sitting at the head of the conference table. "We only have a few minutes left before we are all dismissed for the day. You _do _remember what happened earlier, don't you? We have to give the Judge an answer in the morning before the trial can continue."

House mumbled and sat up, giving a little yawn. "Where's the coffee? Did you finish it, Mr. Forman?"

"My name is Keys, not Forman, and no, there is no more coffee."

"House, we need to settle on this. Can you at least stay awake for just one second?" Stacy asked nastily and House knew she meant business. He didn't really care about the others, except Kathi of course, but getting on her bad side in the current situation was something he knew he shouldn't do.

"Okay, fine. Not guilty," he muttered as he stood, grabbed his cane and walked around the room to stretch his leg.

"HOUSE! That's not …" Stacy started to say.

"I know, I know. Personally I don't feel the need to dig into the defendant's past; he's not guilty so it doesn't make a difference," House stated.

"Oh, and why is that, Greg?" Kathi asked, leaning forward and putting her chin in her hand. Stacy noticed the 'Greg' but didn't comment.

"Because I've already been at the scene of the accident."

"So have I, but due to the case I …" Kathi started to say.

"You mean you have _both_ been to the scene of the accident?" Keys asked bewildered. He slammed his hand on the conference table and stood up. "Do you know what this means? I have to tell the Judge that two of the jurors have been there and he might just sequester us for the rest of the case!"

There were moans and mumbles from almost every juror. Keys walked to the door and pressed a button. The baliff opened the door, there were soft whispers between them and then the door closed again.

Therefore, because of House's stupidity (as well as Kathi's but she was an innocent victim), the baliff returned shortly with the Judge's ruling on putting the jury in isolation.

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A little over an hour later, House unlocked his door to his apartment and headed into his bedroom. While he packed a few items of clothing and essential primping necessities, he stuffed everything into a duffel bag and walked back into the living room.

"You must also keep your cell phone here," Detective Johanson ordered as House went to pick up his own. "Judge's orders."

"This sucks. I'm a doctor and …"

"Look, you did this to yourself, Dr. House."

The two men left his apartment and proceeded back to the courthouse, where there was a hotel across the street. They'd indeed been sequestered for the duration of the trial. But House had everything he needed, including his pain killers and a few other 'non-essential but necessary items' that he'd hidden in the very bottom of the duffel bag.

When Johanson opened the door to the hotel room and he saw who his roommate was, he smiled, although he wasn't sure if he should be happy about it, distraught or downright pissed off.

NOTE: Ok...now the question is………WHO IS HOUSE'S ROOMATE??? Stacy?? Kathi?? Keys?? And what did he hide in the bottom of the duffel bag?

OK, that's TWO questions, but you get the idea. CLIFFHANGERS RULE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	12. Chinese Food in Heaven

**I HOPE THIS EXPLAINS THE SIGNIFIGANCE OF THE INTERSECTION WITH THE CASE; MORE WILL BE EXPLAINED LATER. THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS:o)**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN** – Chinese Food in Heaven

House didn't say a word as he walked to the empty double bed and put his duffle bag on it. The woman sat on the other bed and watched him silently, pretending to be reading as he walked to one of two chairs by a round table and sat down, looking out the window.

His mind was racing at this point, trying to figure out how it was possible they'd put a man and woman in the same room; he didn't think that was allowed. But he wasn't really pissed at that – he was more pissed because he would have to be more discreet when he needed to take a shot of morphine in the mornings to curb the pain during the trial.

"In case you're wondering, I have clout," Kathi told him as if reading his mind. She finally peered up from her book and acknowledged him; he met her gaze.

"That's not contagious, is it? You should see a doctor for that," he told her with a sly grin on his face.

"No, I mean I pulled some strings for us to share the same room. And aren't you a doctor?"

"I don't play doctor on the second date."

"Oh, I can tell this is going to be _fun,_" she said with a laugh. "Don't you ever get serious, Greg?"

"Yes, but only when I'm having sex."

"Oh, then I take it you haven't been "serious" in a while?"

"Is that an offer?" House asked flirtatiously. Kathi made a face that covered 'I'm really thinking about it!' when she suddenly broke out laughing.

House joined her in the laughter. Instantly the tension in the room subsided and he felt his shoulders relax. He wasn't quite sure what it was about this woman that he liked. Could it be she met him full circle when he was being a smart ass? Was it that she was so unlike Stacy that she was a breath of fresh air? Was it that maybe he _was _ready to open his heart to someone new? No, maybe it was pure ego on his part - she actually went out of her way to be with him in the same room. After all, no woman can ever go out of her way to get a man, according to House's Rules of Women book.

Kathi's smile disappeared and she asked why House had chosen the restaurant at that intersection since he knew it was the scene of the accident. "You really put yourself in a bad position, not to mention me …" she started to say but he cut her off.

"Wait a second. You knew where the intersection was. You could have suggtested some place else. I just happened to take advantage of the situation."

"I could have, too, but I didn't," she answered, almost angrily. "Oh, well. I guess something good can come out of something stupid," Kathi said, set the book on the bed and stood up, stretching. "I'm going to take a bath before I order Chinese for dinner – I hope you like Chinese, not that you have a choice." She grabbed her own overnight bag, went to the bathroom and closed the door, slamming it a bit harder than necessary.

House sat in silence, staring at the bathroom door and the duffel bag. The pain in his leg was slowly increasing, ebbing on a pain scale of an eight out of ten. A nine for more than an hour was the ultimate of absolutely needing the morphine. He decided to save the morphine for the next day's trial and took two of his trusty Vicodin, knowing he had the morphine if he absolutely needed it, but also knew that he'd have to limit himself to the amount of morphine he took because he wouldn't be able to leave and get more.

When he placed the bottle back in the bottom of the bag and didn't immediately feel the cold, comforting glass of the vial of morphine at the bottom, a stirring arose in the pit of his stomach; like a child going into a panic when his mother was leaving him alone with the babysitter. He hated that feeling; it was almost an admission that he did have a problem. But the great Dr. Gregory House would _never_ admit to such a thing. Besides, he had it under control, no problem. House's chest rose with a heavy sigh as he heard the running water of the tub 'schloosh' down the drain and continued to day-dream.

The next thing he knew and felt was a pillow thrown on his face and chest, almost making him jump out of his chair. He looked at Kathi furiously, but that soon abated when he saw her standing by her bed with her long, blonde hair wrapped in the towel and wore a lavender, strapped summer-type dress that accentuated every curve of her hour-glass shape, her long, luscious legs disappearing into under the material.

For a moment, and just a brief moment, House forgot where he was, and exactly who he was with, and why he was alone with her.

"Hey, you need the towel?" she asked, putting her toiletries back in the bag and threw it between the bed and the wall. House didn't answer; he didn't even really _hear_ her. All he could do was mumble unintelligently.

"No," he finally mustered.

"Good, okay, because I think you need to get that drooling under control," she said as she sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed a menu from Chang's Dynasty Restaurant and looked it over. "Did you ever decide what you wanted, Greg?"

House didn't answer at first but Kathi swore she heard him say, "You," but there was no way she was going to ask him to repeat it. She smiled, a huge, hidden smile, because she knew what she heard; she didn't need him to repeat it.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

An hour or so later House and Kathi were sitting at the table by the window and eating their Chinese, hungrily and happily.

"How can you eat that stuff? It looks like worms that just came from the garden and covered with dirt!" House muttered between mouthfuls.

"How can you eat that mono sodium glutamate soaked rice?" Kathi retorted, biting into her spring roll.

"It is not, it's brown rice."

"Greg, how do you think it _got_ brown?"

"By playing with the worms in the garden?"

Kathi laughed so hard she thought she was going to shoot her noodles across the room. House handed her some napkins but she waved them away.

"Ok, all joking aside – what about the intersection?" Kathi asked House.

"Oh, I thought you, Ms Perfect and Holier than Thou, wouldn't want to know."

"Then I guess I surprised you, didn't I? The only thing holy about me are some of my socks."

House put down the fork, took a sip of the coke and leaned back in the chair. "He didn't do it."

"Oh, Petros _didn't_ purposely run the red light, hit the plaintiff and crippled him for life, eh?" Kathi asked incredulously.

"Nope. You gonna finish your spring roll?"

"I've eaten half of it, so that's a yes," she answered. "What made you come to that conclusion?"

"The timing of the lights."

"Oh, so there was more yellow than red than green? Or more green than yellow than red?"

"Well, after an enjoyable dinner with you, a few drinks and enlightening conversation, I was so mesmerized by the pretty blinking lights that it just came to me," House told her.

"Greg?"

"Hmmph?"

"You are _so_ full of crap, you know that?"

"Yep," House said with a smile as he reached over, grabbed her spring roll and put the remaining two-thirds into his mouth.

Kathi smiled at him; House smiled back as he thought to himself, "_'This is going to be a fun night."_


	13. Get Out of Jail Free

CHAPTER TWELVE – Get out of Jail Free

House lay on the bed of a dark hotel room, with a beautiful woman lying next to him, and reveled in the sweet sound of her breathing on his neck. He couldn't ignore the feeling of her soft, naked body next to his and the heat from their entangled bodies rising under the sheet.

''_How the hell did she get here?' _ House racked his brain trying to remember how she'd gotten in his bed, but at that point he didn't really care. It felt too good to have her next to him – a live, warm body snuggling up next to him.

'_Better than a hooker…or Stacy, for that matter, but maybe not as good as Cameron …'_

A retching sound interrupted his thoughts as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. There was echo to it, bathroom, maybe?

Suddenly his body jolted awake and he was expecting to feel Kathi's warm body next to his but there was no one there; just the coldness of empty space. The toilet flushed and a bright light shown in his face for just a second before it was dark in the room again. He heard, more than saw, Kathi walk from the bathroom to her bed and got under the sheets. She moaned just as her head hit the pillow.

House wanted to ask her if she was okay, but figured she just had bad Chinese food. "I warned you about those noodles."

"Yeah, you did," Kathi told him, holding her stomach with both arms willing the pain in her right side to go away and groaning over the severe back pain.

House sat up in bed then threw his legs over the side and started to rub his right thigh. He hated waking up – that was when the pain was the worst. He looked over and barely made out Kathi on her bed. He reached over and turned on the light hanging over his bed and gasped at Kathi's complexion.

"You're pale," he told her.

"I'm Irish, what can I say?" she moaned.

House turned off the light, stood, grabbed his bottle from under the mattress and walked to the bathroom, making every attempt to keep his toe away from the corner of her bed so he wouldn't stub his toe. He closed the bathroom door behind him and only then turned on the light, placing his bottle of Vicodin on the counter. He shuffled to the toilet and just happened to look in before he'd started. There was blood on the edge of the water - very light, but there nonetheless. _'Why in the hell can't women remember to flush the toilet when they're on the curse?' _He did his business, flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror.

There, on the counter, were two prescription bottles, neither one his own. He picked them up and noted they were Telmisartan and Lisinopril. _'Why both medications? That's not common.'_

House walked back out and sat on the edge of the bed again, facing Kathi, her back to him, turning on the light over his headboard. He sat looking at her for a second before she said, "What are you staring at?"

"Kathi, are you sick? You've got a 'Get out of Jail Free card' if you are."

She softly groaned again before she turned over and looked at him. The look of concern on his face comforted her, but then she balled herself up in a fetal position when another spasm of pain went through her body.

"It's nothing," she told him, hoping it was enough to make him stop prying. She just wanted to get back to sleep.

"You need something for the pain?"

She shook her head. "It'll go away."

"Oh, PMS sucks, doesn't it?" House asked, now starting to wonder if that was the case.

"I'm not on my period, jerk," she snapped

"Then how long have you had blood in your urine?" Her eyes fluttered closed and she didn't answer the question. "It could be a side effect to the Telmisartan you're taking."

"Yeah, I'll go to the doctor's office after the trial," she told him. "Look, I'm tired and we have to get up in a few hours."

"Kathi, I _am_ a doctor. What other symptoms are you having?"

"Greg, stop it. I'm fine," she said irritably.

House stood and approached her bed. "Lie on your back," he ordered.

"No."

"Now, I know you Irish are stubborn but …" House started to say but Kathi moaned louder and he saw a tear run down the outside of her eye. "Kathi, please, let me help you."

She opened her eyes and hesitated before she turned over her back, pain registering across her face as she did so. House stood, took half a step and sat down softly on her bed beside her. "Where's the pain?"

"Here," she said, pointing to her side right under her rib cage. "And my back."

House put his right hand on the spot on her side she pointed out and let his fingers gently massage the spot. He then stopped and with his left hand tapped the back of his right hand a few times. That sent Kathi into giving a loud scream and full tears were now streaming down her face. He pulled the blanket down to her waist and stopped, his face contorted in partial disgust and trepidation at the blood seeping through the sheets from under her right hip. He then replaced the blanket.

"How long have you had the pain? And how long have you been on the medications?" he asked, leaned back and waited for her answers.

"I've been on them for two years now for high blood pressure. The meds are work…" She let out another soft scream. "The pain started about six months ago."

"What about the blood in the urine…and now?"

"That's only happened twice … what do you mean, 'now?'" Kathi closed her eyes and her head seemed to meld into the pillow; House knew she had passed out from the pain.

He needed to call an ambulance. He reached for the nightstand and realized there was no phone there. He cursed out loud, walked to the door, turned on the light in the hall and opened it, bent at the waist as if looking for a midget to attack him with a machete for leaving his room in the middle of the night. But no one was there. He stuck his head out further and peered right. No one. He turned to the left and was faced with the pot belly of a security guard.

"And where do you think _you _are going?" the man asked as he placed his hands on his hips.

"Oh, got milk?" House said sarcastically as he stood. "Look, we've got to get her to a hospital."

The guard frowned, thinking it was just a ruse to get out of the room. "Unless either one of you are dead you are not leaving this room."

House told the guard to hold open the door, walked to Kathi's bed, ran his fingers across the blood on the sheet and returned to the door. "How's this for 'almost dead?' House asked, showing his blood soaked fingers to the guard.

The guard raised his walky talky to his mouth and said, "Officer Temple in room 219. We need an ambulance, pronto."

IS KATHI'S ILLNESS ENOUGH TO GET HER OFF THE JURY? MORE IMPORTANTLY, IS IT ENOUGH TO GET HOUSE HIMSELF OFF OF JURY DUTY IF HE CLAIMED TO BE KATHI'S PHYSICIAN?

JOIN US LATER ON THE SAME HOUSE CHANNEL, SAME HOUSE TIME…

Okay, that's my poor attempt at Batman, but you get the angst…I mean idea. :o)


	14. Muskateers Unanswered Questions

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN** – Unanswered Muskateer Questions

The paramedics came into the room and attended to a still conscious Kathi, trying their best to ignore the incessant medical input and suggestions from House. He had assumed that he would be going with her to the hospital in the ambulance, but when he tried to step out of the room the guard put his arm out to stop him. House looked at him with pure hatred. "You can't leave – judge's orders."

For just a split second his face shown with more disgust but then softened. He grinned thoughtfully at the guard, trying to wear a genuine smile, reached into his pocket and pulled out a $50 bill.

"Tell you what…you let me go to the hospital, pick me up at 4 a.m. – let's say – and no one has to know."

"Oh, please. Don't insult me. I wouldn't let you one door down the hall for that," the guard told him, taking a step into the room which forced House to do the same.

"Okay," House pulled out two more $50 bills and waved it in front of the guard's face, taunting him, "How about this?"

The guard's eyes widened a bit but then a scowl crossed his face. "Look, I got three kids at home, a mortgage, a car payment…and everything else. I need my job," he said sternly.

"Is there a problem here?" The woman that spoke stood behind the guard in the doorway and could clearly see House with the three bills stretched out.

"Stacy, would you _please_ tell this moron that you will sue him if he doesn't let me go to the hospital," House said, further explaining what had happened earlier.

"Get back to your room," the guard said. "This doesn't concern you."

She ignored him by looking at House then to the guard then back to House. Her eyes were squinted as if trying to determine the severity of the situation. With House, what he thought was a severe situation Stacy put it off to a little boy's childish whines of demanding something that is meaningless.

"Officer … Powell," Stacy began, putting on her sweet, soft, southern accent to charm him – which only resulted in House rolling his eyes but not allowing the guard to see it - "if you allow me one phone call to the judge I think I can end this standoff between the two of you.

Just then a crackle came over the guard's walkie talkie then a voice. 'Powell, let that Dr. House ride with the patient to the hospital. Send him down _now_,' the man ordered.

Powell stepped aside and let House pass him without saying a word, but wondered why and who allowed him to take her to the hospital. When he approached Stacy he thanked her, and she thought she would pass out right there in the hospital. She smiled and House rushed down the hallway to the elevator as fast as he could – well, as fast as a man could with one bum leg.

After Kathi had been wheeled into the emergency room of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, House began to bark orders to the attending physicians.

"Dr. House, we are _quite_ capable of handling the situation," the head doctor told him irritably.

House grunted under his breath and left the E.R. to the nurse's station. He picked up the phone – without the nurse's permission, although she never asked questions because she knew who he was and was having a bad morning to begin with and didn't want it to get any worse – and dialed some numbers then waited for the person to answer their phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you're late for work. Get your ass in here."

"It's … 4 a.m., House!"

"I'm impressed, Foreman! They do teach how to tell time in da hood. Try this: See you in 15 minutes. That'd be 4:15 in Hood Central Time." House pushed the hang-up button down without taking the phone from his ear and dialed different numbers.

There was a groan before he heard a hoarse and almost incoherent "Hellow?"

"Crickey!" House said in a legitimate Australian accent. "There's a croc loose in the hospital and you're the only Aussie we know!" Silence on the other end. House heard a snore then screamed, "Oh, shit! Nurse Brenda has just been swallowed by the croc! Get in here, now! Save Brenda!" House hung up the phone with a slight giggle and proceeded to dial the last of the numbers he needed.

The phone rang a few times then was picked up, but no one said hello. House hesitated for just a second before he said, "I need you so badly, Cameron! Meet me in the Janitor's closet at the hospital in 15 minutes." House then hung up the phone.

The nurse looked at House strangely before he winked at her and headed to the conference room to make some coffee - strong coffee. After he poured a cup and sat down behind his desk he looked at his watch: 4:26. "Okay, they're late. They are so fired …"

House immediately grew silent when he saw Chase walk into the conference room and House hollered out to him to come to his office. Chase nodded his head, walked to the coffee machine, poured himself a cup and only then did he go to House's office.

"You don't follow instructions very well," House said mockingly.

"Nope, sure don't," Chase answered as he sat down on the couch in the room, "especially not when it's 4:30 in the morning."

Both men looked up at his door to the hallway when they heard it open and watched Cameron as she walked in, carrying a bag of fresh doughnuts. House had to admit she looked pretty darned good in the burgundy sweats, fleece pullover and sneakers. By the look on Chase's face, House concluded Chase did, too.

As she laid them on the table House said, "You're late."

"Don't worry. You're not the father," Cameron answered as she removed the two boxes from the bag and set them on the corner of House's desk.

"Wow, you are so very enchanting and witty in the mornings. Chase, have you ever seen her this early in the morning? Hot, isn't she?" House snickered as he reached across his desk for a chocolate glazed doughnut.

"You're welcome, that's why I was late." Cameron said as she turned and sat down next to Chase, who had two doughnuts in each hand.

"Duh, really?" House answered sarcastically with a mouthful and wiped his hands on his jeans.

The three sat in silence waiting for the third musketeer to arrive. House finished off his third doughnut before he left for another cup of coffee.

Chase and Cameron looked at each other like two children just caught with their hands in the candy jar.

"It's a good thing I left when I did. If I didn't answer the phone he would have harassed the crap out me to find out who I was with. And I'm not about to tell him I was with you," Chase said as Cameron softly rubbed her hand on his left knee.

"Hey, easy. He'll catch …" Chase started to say but froze when he heard the door from the hall open and felt someone staring at them, quickly pulling his leg away from Cameron.

"Yep, you two are busted. You do know I can bribe you two, now," Foreman said with a smile as he entered and sat in the chair between the desk and couch.

"That's extortion," Cameron corrected, "I think. Or is that only with money? God I'm so tired I can't even think straight."

"Way to go, Chase!" Foreman teased. "Why the hell are we here, anyway?"

Cameron shrugged her shoulders and answered, "He hasn't told us yet."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

WHO AUTHORIZED HOUSE TO LEAVE WITH KATHI?

WHY EXACTLY DID STACY HELP HOUSE WITH THE GUARD? DOES SHE STILL LOVE HIM BUT PLAYING IT COOL, TRYING TO WIN HIS AFFECTION SLOWLY?

HOW DID YOU LIKE CAM'S COMEBACK OF HER BEING LATE? IS THERE ANY INSIDE MEANING WITH THAT?

AND WHAT EXACTLY IS WRONG WITH KATHI?

Join me later --- SAME HOUSE TIME! SAME HOUSE CHANNEL!!!


	15. End of Story

**NO ONE CORRECTED ME ON THIS BUT I CAUGHT IT ONLY AFTER I POSTED. **There is no chapter missing—I mislabled 13 as 14 so I'll just keep it the way it is.

And you must excuse the medical information on the next few chapters because some meds I make up and level of certain tests – like are high but s/b low, etc. For everyone's knowledge, PKD is Polycystic Kidney Disease – listed only as PKD.

Ok, enjoy and review. :o) And thanks for all the reviews already sent.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN** – End of Story

House sat behind his desk later that morning with a sick feeling in his stomach as he looked over Kathi's prior medical file but nothing showed out of the ordinary. The more he read, the worse his stomach felt – like butterflies, but evil butterflies – nothing cute about them. And it was all over Kathi; someone he hadn't known for very long at all. Hell, they didn't have more than eight hours of conversation. He didn't know why he was feeling the way he was but it bothered him, right down to his Nikes. But he hadn't seen her since she'd been in the ER. He wanted to see her, but something held him back. That was the million dollar question.

They'd controlled the bleeding but her blood pressure was dangerously high and the medications were not bringing it down. The side and back pain had subsided somewhat although she was still in pain but she refused anything for it. When Cameron told House he had to control the urge to throw his ball at her, not that he was mad at Cameron, she just happened to be the closing living, breathing target.

Her blood work the gang took was not good, either. The pancreas wasn't regulating the insulin her body needed for her kidneys to function properly and her blood sugar levels were through the roof. In combination with the high blood pressure she was clearly on her way to a stroke or heart attack or aneurysm, whichever would come first. Regardless, none were a good sign.

He sat back in his chair hards and sighed deeply. He looked at his watch and it read 8:46 a.m. Breakfast crossed his mind but he wasn't hungry, even though he knew he had to eat. But he couldn't. Not now. He had to figure out what the hell was wrong with Kathi. Anger was building up within him – but was it because he was worried over Kathi or angry with himself because they hadn't determined what was wrong with her yet. The great Dr Gregory House was actually worried over someone other than himself. The butterflies went from his stomach to his head. He felt dizzy. His leg hurt. He was now nauseous.

He put his face in his hand and closed his eyes for just a moment. He heard his office door open but didn't bother to look up. He heard someone sit in the chair on the other side of the desk but ignored them.

"House, her liver enzymes have decreased to 12 and the blood is back in her urine. Chase and Foreman are doing an MRI of her liver and kidneys." Cameron said, majorly overdoing her sweetness to comfort his as best as she could. House willed his evil butterflies to attack her but they only fluttered wilder.

House only mumbled into his hands and she got up and left. Only when he heard the door close behind her did he open his eyes. On his desk was a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich, toasted white bread with three packets of ketchup; just the way he liked it. A smile escaped his lips as he reached over and tore off a small bite, slowly putting it into his mouth. He chewed but to him it tasted like cardboard. When he took the last bite his stomach and head didn't feel any better.

He figured some cool, autumn air would make him feel something, if anything. He stepped out and leaned over the brick wall that overlooked the courtyard. He wanted to be alone, but heard Wilson step out from his office.

"House, Stacy just called me," he told him.

"So," he snapped.

"She wanted to know how Kathi is. She wants you to call her at this number. I didn't know what to tell her about her condition." He handed him a piece of paper.

"Why should you know? You're not her doctor."

"No, but you are and I figured you would have consulted me, for some strange reason. Why aren't you racking your brains or tearing your hair out or … wait, you don't have much hair to tear out," Wilson teased, hoping to get some reaction from House. It backfired.

"I am so NOT in the mood for you right now."

"House, what's eating you? I've seen you obsessed over cases before but this is different. You seem almost depressed about it. Have you even seen Kathi? Cameron said she asked to see you."

"Yeah, so?"

Wilson could do nothing but shake his head and walked away. Just as he got to the door he turned around. "Oh, my god. You like her, don't you?."

House turned around and looked at him, with piercing eyes that threw daggers at him. "So what if I do?"

"House, go see her."

House simply turned back around and looked at the changing colors of leaves on the trees. He _would_ go see her at some point. But Stacy wanted him to call her, like he really wanted to. He sighed, reached in his pocket for his cell and dialed the number Wilson left on the ledge.

"What do you want?" House snapped into the phone.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Greg," Stacy answered. _'This isn't a good sign,'_ she thought. "Look, Judge Sasser, the one presiding over the case, he's … Kathi is her daughter."

His eyes lit up. "Ah, so that's why I'm here and not there."

"Yes. He said he knows you are a pompous jerk, and he's right, but he also knows you are a good doctor. He wanted you to treat her. How is she doing?"

"Not good."

"Okay, we'll have a break in a few hours and Judge Sasser will call you. I hope you'll have an answer for him."

"Yeah, me too," House answered and clicked the phone shut.

He suddenly felt tired. He had been rudely awakened and felt all the strength and energy drain from him. He sighed and headed back to his office. He sat in his 'thinking chair', throwing the cane on the floor in a childish fit. He closed his eyes to think, but was asleep in seconds.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"House. House?"

House jerked awake and groggily looked at Cameron, Chase and Foreman. He sat up, wiped his eyes and asked, "What did the MRI show?"

"PKD – two are the size of ping pong balls; there also seems to be a few growths on her liver and pancreas as well, which explains the elevated insulin. She's scheduled for surgery at 11:30," Cameron told him.

"She wants to see you before she goes under, House," Chase threw in.

House didn't answer. He simply stood up, rubbed his eyes and walked out, leaving the three in stunned silence.

He walked to Kathi's room, and the closer he got the more his butterflies eased up on their Death Dance. He took a deep breath before he slid the door open and walked in, his body instantly easing from the tension.

He was expecting her to be asleep from all the tests they had run since the early morning but she was awake, lying on her bed and looking out the window. "Hey," he said softly as he approached her, so as not to frighten her. She turned her head towards him and smiled weakly. "Why aren't you asleep? After our kinky trist last night I thought you'd have been exhausted. I wasn't good enough?"

Kathi laughed then grabbed her right side, quickly stifling her laughter. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts too much."

"Oh, then I guess I shouldn't make this face, huh?" He then proceeded to make the worst and stupidest facial expression he could muster.

"Greg? Why do you hide behind being such a childish dork?" she asked but had a smile on her face. He frowned, not quite sure exactly what she meant. "When you are the most uncomfortable you have to say something sarcastic… or are you more vulnerable then you let show?"

House shook his head quickly and said, "Your surgery is easy…" He then went into detail on the surgery but she didn't seem to be paying any attention. House picked up on it, too. "Also, simple nip here and cut there – cysts gone. You'll be fine in no time. Want some liposuction done? Wait – not necessary. Boop job? Triple-D's would look totally awesome on you! Oh, wait, hmmm…scratch the second part. They're perfect."

Kathi blushed a bit then slowly sat up with a very serious and stoic expression on her face. "Greg, look. I think we let things get a little out of hand."

"What are you talking about?"

"The flirting," she answered.

"Flirting? I wasn't flirting. Were you flirting?" he joked.

"I don't want to hurt you…I don't want…neither one of us needs…"

"Why, Ms. Gilmore. Are you asking me to marry you?"

"What? Where in the hell did you get…what I mean is that I don't think we should see each other after I leave here."

House tilted his head back as if a football had just landed on his face. "Um. Okay."

"Okay. Good," she responded.

"Kathi?"

"Hmmmph?" She said that as she closed her eyes; the awkwardness of the situation was starting to take its toll and she felt completely exhausted.

"We'll talk more after your surgery, ok? I'll be here when you wake up. Shoot, I can even do the surgery if you want me to."

At that comment her eyes flung open in shock, but then softened and she closed her eyes again. "No, Greg. Please. You found out what the problem was. It's getting fixed. Then I'm going home. We go our separate ways. End of story."

End of story? How could she say that? He was pleased at how they had progressed – granted, it wasn't even 24 hours, but for House that was a start. His mind reeled as he left her room.

'_There's more to this story than she's letting on. Not end of story, it's just the beginning.'_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

END OF CHAPTER – please review….TANKS AND HAPPY HOUSE-o-ween!!!!


	16. Daddy's Secret

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN** – Daddy's Secret

House was flabbergasted. He sat in his office, his chair turned towards the window, his mind reeling with what happened between him and Kathi.

"Women! Man, I hate 'em…maybe I should bat for the other team? Oh, Wilson would …"

"Wilson would _what_?" Dr James Wilson asked, sitting in the chair opposite his desk. House had no idea he wasn't alone; he never even heard his door open. "Come on, let's get something to eat," Wilson suggested.

House spun his chair around, stood up and approached Wilson. "That depends. Got $5?"

"For what, lunch?"

"No, for Stevie's college fund, you moron," House answered as he held out his hand for the $5.

Wilson shook his head then the men walked to the cafeteria. A few minutes later they were seated eating; well, Wilson was the only one eating but House couldn't. Wilson made a mental note of his lack of appetite, not sure whether it was because Kathi was in surgery that very moment or the pain in his leg had doubled as of late.

"Uh, if you're not going to eat that then I want my five bucks back," Wilson told House, who just gave him a dirty look.

Whatever was eating House was bothering Wilson, though he didn't know why or why he even _cared _it bothered him. Sure, Wilson was used to his emotionally stunted friend's quirks, and it wasn't the first time he'd pried into his life, but this was different. He knew House wouldn't just blurt out that he was hopelessly in love with Kathi or that his leg hurt like hell. But it sure ate at him. And for once the tables were turned. Ever since Wilson found out about Foreman and Wendy, House hadn't pried into Wilson's love life, or lack thereof. But now Wilson was trying to get some kind of truth, whether it be pain or Kathi, which to Wilson, all relationships were – a pain.

"You do know removing those cysts is a fairly common procedure. She'll be fine," Wilson said, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him that would tell him the answer. Of course, House didn't answer and all Wilson could do was shake his head and snuckle…a laugh in between a chuckle and a snort. He was crazy to think he'd actually get an answer, and he was right.

"What the hell is so funny?" House started to ask but was interrupted by Stacy and a man as they approached their table.

"Hi, Dr House, Wilson," she said. "This is Judge Sasser, Kathi's father," she introduced.

Wilson nodded his head slowly in a hello and stood, excused himself from the table and left. House took his first bite of food and ignored the two.

"Dr. House, I need to talk to you about Kathi," the Judge said as he pulled a chair out for Stacy and sat in Wilson's empty chair.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll get a paternity test to prove I'm not the father," House said sarcastically, as if they were taking precious time away from his busy life.

"Greg!"

"Oh, Mrs. Warner, it's okay. You have quite the reputation in the court, Dr. House. You got Judge Cowan so upset and convinced he had heart disease he retired three weeks later and moved to Arizona. The funny thing is he died three months later."

"Heart attack?" House asked, even though he didn't really care.

"No, he got run over by the trash truck," Judge Sasser answered stoically then a smile crossed his face. "Look, I'm here because there's something you need to know about Kathi's medical history."

"Yeah, I know. I read her chart. Us doctors are required by law to do that before someone has surgery." House's face contorted in pain as he felt a sharp pain surge from his left shin up his leg and gave Stacy a nasty look for kicking him under the table.

"No, that's not…" the Judge looked at Stacy exasperatedly then back to House. "She has cancer."

House looked at Stacy shocked. "You have cancer, Stacy?"

Stacy frowned and shook her head. "No, idiot. Kathi does." That got House's attention.

A couple of hours later House was seated beside Kathi's bed absent mindedly flipping the channels on the t.v., not paying attention to what he was watching.

"…Back to four…previewing Monster Trucks…this season," Kathi mumbled.

House turned to look at her as she was looking back. "Look, I am the Remote God. I get to watch what I want to watch…you said Monster Trucks?" House asked.

She slowly nodded her head. "…Kitty Whiskers and Spot the Dogmata racing…"

"Oh, man! They haven't raced since…wait, they've never raced. AWESOME!" Realization kicked in that he was actually talking to a woman that knew about Monster Trucks. _'There's hope for women, yet.'_

"You like 'em?" House asked, still stunned.

"Yeah…my brother got him hooked. Although I do like derbies a little better but only if there is a guarantee of at least six crashes." That made House laugh and she laughed right along with him. "Greg, look, I'm sorry about earlier…"

"Shhh, what channel was it on?"

"I'm not telling," she told him then turned serious. "Greg, my father came to see me before I went into surgery. You just had the unfortunate mishap of seeing me right after I heard…" She turned her head away from him, almost as if ashamed.

"I know, Kathi. He just told me," House said softly, almost caringly as she turned back at him with anger written on her face.

"How could he keep that from me? All I knew and he told me was I had PKD, not cancer. And you didn't even tell me when your troup took the MRI."

"Kathi, we never saw anything other than the cysts on your liver and pancreas."

"Well, that's why I went wonkers on you, Greg. I just figured it'd be easier…" She closed her eyes as if in pain. House unlocked the drug admin box and upped her morphine. Immediately her face softened and her body relaxed. "I don't…wan…do that to you…"

"Kathi, get some sleep."

She slowly shook her head and mumbled, "The thing is, I kinda like you, Greg." She then drifted off to sleep.

He sat watching her for a few minutes before he got up and went to his office. He saw the triplets sitting in the conference room – Cameron looking at a file, Chase reading a medical book and Foreman on the phone.

Anger grew inside him. He burst into the conference room and said, "Cameron, you've been elected Official MRI Retrieval person." She looked at him confused. "Yeah, I said you're an OMR. 'Omer', Ommmmrrrrr - sounds like you're meditating, badly."

"House, what are you rambling on about?" she asked him.

"Apparently, these two nincompoops can't even take a simple MRI to detect cancer…tumors, actually." The three still looked confused. "Look, I don't have to explain this to you. You three are doctors…YOU figure it out." House then stormed out of the room.

In the hospital's garage, House sat on his silent bike and wishing he could fly out of there – out of N.J., out West. Just drive. No itinerary, just wind in his face, his thoughts raging through his brain to try to justify what Kathi's father had done.

EARLIER IN THE CAFETERIA:

"You did _what?_" House asked Judge Sasser.

"Her mother had pancreatic cancer that started as PKD and when Kathi told me she had PKD I just…I didn't want her to do what her mother did."

"Oh, she left you for a younger man?" House snorted.

"Greg, knock it off!" Stacy warned him.

"No, she killed herself. I had Kathi's medical records changed so she didn't know she was dying."

"That's illegal," House said.

"So. You've never done anything illegal?" the Judge asked. "If you had a daughter that you knew was going to die, after watching your son die of the same thing, wouldn't you try to protect your remaining child?" House remained silent. "I told her, before she went into surgery. They'll find the tumors. She'll know soon enough. I wanted to be the one to tell her."

"That was brave of you, Judge. But she's not a child. I think she would have been able to handle…"

"That's not up to you to decide whether or not she could handle it," the Judge snapped.

House stood up angrily. "Oh, I don't think you really _know_ your daughter."

"Oh, and you do?" he asked.

"Yeah. I think…I think I care about her."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ok, I know not everyone likes romance…but this isn't gooshy, I promise.

This has gone from Jury Duty to a dilemma House faces – and he enlists the aid of Cameron to help him make a decision, whether it be a mistake or not.

As it turns out, House gets another perspective into the making of Cameron's psyche.


	17. Love Makes One Do Stupid Things

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN** – Love Makes One Do Stupid Things

"'I think I care about her…I think I CARE about her?!' What the HELL did I say that for?" House asked as the two men sat in his office earlier that evening eating dinner; everyone else had gone home for the night, except Wilson, of course.

Wilson felt his friend didn't want to leave the hospital because of Kathi, and although he was never asked to, decided to stay with him. It wasn't like he had anything else better to do anyway.

"House, you won't die if you care about someone," Wilson said in between bites of his Kung Pao chicken.

House stuck his tongue out at his friend and threw a packet of duck sauce at him. "Let's see what Confuscious say."

He unwrapped a fortune cookie and scoffed as he read it before throwing that, too, at Wilson. He picked it up out of curiosity. "'The one you love is closer than you think,'" Wilson read out loud then proceeded to laugh so hard he spat out some rice. "I am _never_ eating Chinese with you again!"

House smiled and laughed. "Trust me, you are not my type. What does yours say?"

"Oh, I never read it until I'm finished eating. Bad fung shei."

House impatiently reached over for the second cookie, unwrapped then read it to himself. "Well, it's inevitable. You and I are destined to live together forever. I sooo love you, Jimmy!"

"Oh, god. What did it say?"

"'People are attracted by your delicate features.' You are quite handsome, you know," House teased.

Suddenly House's pager went off. He picked it up off the desk, groaned, threw his chopsticks on his desk and left his office, leaving Wilson no reason for his leaving so abruptly.

House walked down the hall toward Kathi's room and saw Cameron standing at the large paneled glass window, wearing a forlorn expression.

"I thought you left. What's going on?"

"Her right kidney is enlarged and lost 75 of its function and her blood pressure hasn't gone below 210/98, meds aren't helping. There's bile in her urine and her temp is 102.9. It doesn't look good. She'll be in renal failure soon."

"Get her on analysis." House asked out of genuine concern. Cameron nodded her head and walked down the hall for the machine.

House sighed heavily and entered the room. He stood at the end of her bed and looked at her.

'_The first woman I've met who is somewhat interesting and she may die._ This _is why I don't get involved with women.'_

Kathi turned her head slightly as she woke up. She looked at the foot of the bed but didn't seem to know who it was.

"Tim?"

"No, it's Greg," he simply said. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Hey," she said sleepily with a smile on her face.

He smiled and walked to the side of her bed, sliding down the guard rail and sitting on the bed beside her. "We're going to get you on dialysis; you're kidneys are enlarged and we need to get it functioning the way it should."

"Okay." She closed her eyes and it was quiet in the room for a few minutes. "Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"I was married once. He was in an accident at work and I decided to have him taken off life support after six months. I want that DNR thing. I don't want …"

"Wait a minute. You are far from dying, Kathi."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, reaching out for his hand and holding it tight. "Come on. You don't fool me, Greg. I have 'lying radar' and it's in high gear right now."

"Look, there are too many things that we can do …"

"I don't' care. It just hurts too much and I just want it to end. But the sad thing is that I'd hoped I'd married again, as selfish as that sounds."

House was speechless. Selfish, yes – she was selfish to want to leave someone behind that cared about her. But married to that person was a completely different story. Marriage, for what it's worth, just makes it more complicated and painful. But it was just a stupid piece of paper, wasn't it? He sure didn't need one when he and Stacy were together. But, would things have been different he they did marry after his leg incident? Who knew, and besides, Greg didn't really care. Not at the moment, anyway.

All he knew was that he had feelings for this woman and it scared the crap out of him. He wanted to be with her – go to the park, dinner, anything. He felt something when he was with her, something he never felt with Stacy.

He loved Stacy, yes. He was in love with her, yes. He loved being with her, yes. But what was so different between Stacy and Kathi? What was it about her that made him feel the way he did?

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Soon Cameron came in with another nurse and got Kathi started on the dialysis.

"Kathi, this will put you to sleep while your blood is being cleaned through the machine. It'll take a few hours but you'll feel fine when you wake up," Cameron told her as the nurse approached with the syringe with the sedative.

"Wait…Greg…will you stay with me?" Kathi begged. House nodded his head and she smiled.

The nurse injected her with the sleep aid and she was asleep within seconds. House stayed with her the entire time, along with Cameron, who sent the other nurse out.

"House, I've never seen you so attached to a patient. I think it's sweet."

He rolled his eyes. "Let's not ruin this wonderful moment with chat, shall we?"

A few moments went by before House spoke up. "Cameron, why did you decide to marry your husband?"

"Uh, that's chat, House."

"Wow! You're quick."

The two stared at each other, neither one breaking eye contact until Cameron said, "I told you. He would have died alone if…"

"No, no. I mean, why did you _really_ marry him? Did you love him?"

Cameron frowned. "What difference…no, why do you want to know?"

"You can't carry a conversation with a question to a question."

"I cared about him."

"But, you didn't love him?"

"I loved his sense of humor, his strength fighting the cancer, being with him. I loved him enough."

"But you weren't in love with him?"

"House, I don't…"

"Humor me."

"No."

"Yet you married him anyway, knowing he'd be dead in a few months."

"Why all this grilling? This isn't the time or place for it." Cameron's facial expression changed when it suddenly hit her. "Oh, my god. You aren't considering…but you don't even know her."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Sorry, I think I'm losing steam on this story! I'll take suggestions if anyone has any!!! HELP:o)


	18. The Verdict Is In

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – **The Verdict Is In

"Are you out of your mind? Where in the hell did you get that idea from?" House asked Cameron. "I can't love anyone, remember?"

House quickly stood and left Kathi's left, leaving Cameron behind. He was tired and his leg started to hurt and all he wanted to do was go home, take his trusty morphine and sleep. Sleep, for hours – to forget the past few days and ignore the feelings that he had towards Kathi. But he had to go back to the hotel room to pick up his things, most importantly the morphine he'd hid under the bed.

An hour or so later House was seated on his couch with the syringe set on the coffee table and he was about to put the rubber tourniquet around his left arm when he heard a voice coming from the bathroom. _"House…"_

It echoed softly throughout his apartment. He looked down the hall towards the bathroom and heard it again – his name. He ignored it, tightened the tourniquet around his upper arm and inserted the needle in the vein on the inside of his elbow. He sat back and waited for the opiate to wash over him.

"_House!"_

Something hit him hard on his right arm but he didn't feel any pain. He felt his eyes grow heavier and reveled in the pain slowly edging away. Suddenly, something sharp jabbed him in his right leg. He sat up on the couch so fast that although his body stopped, it felt like his body would continue until it hit the floor.

"House, wake up!" It was Stacy's voice that was hollering at him.

"What the hell did you…hit my leg for?" House screamed as he rubbed his right leg.

In his dream he bolted up from his couch, when in reality he was seated in a chair around a conference table with 11 angry pairs of eyes staring at him. He was in the jury deliberation room and his memory slowly came back to him. The last thing he remembered was the dinner with Kathi in the restaurant after the first day of the trial, but his dream continued it for him. Kathi wasn't dying of PKD; she had never been in the hospital. She had never turned him down for another date.

"House, this is no time to be sleeping - _again_! We have to decide on a verdict and none of us wants to be here longer than we have to," Stacy continued.

"He's not guilty," House said as he stood and walked to a smaller table where coffee and bottles of water were.

"Oh, you've slept the other day during the initial deliberations and now you've been asleep the past 45 minutes and you think he's innocent?" Keys, the foreman, asked.

"Yeah. I do my best thinking when I'm asleep," House answered without turning around. He felt someone close to him, at his side, just barely touching their body with his, too close for his comfort. "I'll be finished in a …oh, it's you," House said as he turned to see it was Kathi standing next to him.

"Greg, we've been back and forth with three of the jurors who we finally got convinced the defendant is guilty. To make it stick we need your deciding vote. And a lot of people are pissed at you."

House smiled softly and said, "That's nothing new. If no one was mad at me, _then_ I'd worry." House took his coffee back to the table and sat down.

Keys took a few minutes to review what House had missed. He finished it off when he asked, "What makes you so sure that the defendant is innocent?"

"Because of the lights at the intersection," House answered, not bothering to explain more, and especially not that it was the same reasoning in his dream. House never paid attention to his dreams but those he did remember ended up meaning something.

And his leg was really starting to bother him, more than ever when he didn't take his vicodin on time. He rubbed it as hard as he could and saw that Kathi was watching him with a concerned look on her face.

Keys looked at House blankly, as did the rest of the jurors. "You'll have to explain a bit more before we buy that you find him innocent." Keys told him.

House turned to Stacy and asked, "Is there anyway we can visit the intersection of the accident?"

Stacy frowned and hesitated in her answer. She knew that some jurors were taken to scenes of certain crimes, but this wasn't as big a deal as House thought it was. "I think so."

"Dr. House, we don't want to have to take a trip out there," another juror said in frustration.

"Okay, correct me if I'm wrong, but if I understand it correctly I have the right to ask for certain things to help in my decision, right?" House asked as he looked at Stacy.

Stacy returned his stare then to the other juror and said, "He's right. He does have that right."

House smiled in triumph as he took his seat at the table.

"Greg, can you at least show us why you think he's innocent? If we don't make a decision by 9 pm tonight we'll just be here all day tomorrow. I'm sure you want to go home, right?" Kathi asked.

"We all do…" echoed in the room from some of the other jurors.

"Where's my white board? I need my white board," House whined as he looked around the room as if one would be sitting in the corner.

"No white board but here's paper," Keys said as he slid a notebook towards House.

House drew a very sloppy and child-like diagram of an intersection, with 'moron1' for the plaintiff, 'moron2' for the defendant and moron3 for a pedestrian then started to explain.

"Okay, moron1 approached the intersection at what he claims is a green light. Moron2 also approaches the same intersection and also says he has a green light. The catch is there was a pedestrian, moron3, who had hit the button to cross the street at moron1's stop."

House looked up at the group thinking that explanation was good enough and that he'd won his argument. What met him were the same 11 pairs of eyes that stared at him blankly.

He sighed heavily and continued to explain. "If you've ever sat and watched an intersection's lights functioning the way they should be, you'll notice that when a pedestrian is present the changing of the lights are different than they are normally, by about eight seconds."

Again, blank stares. Around the outside of the intersection diagram he drew 11 stick people and entitled the group 'morons4.

"Okay, pretend you are watching this. Moron1 claims Moron2 ran the red light, but he didn't have a red light – it was green. Moron1 was the one that had the red light – he was the one that ran the red light."

"And where did you get your proof from, Greg?" Stacy asked, very curious as to how he came to that conclusion.

"Proof schmoof!" he snickered. "Ask the baliff to take us to the intersection and I'll watch you all as you come to the same conclusion that I did."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Two days later, the jury is seated in their box on the left side of the wall.

"Has the jury reached its verdict yet?" Judge Sasser called out.

Keys, the forman of the jury, stood and said, "Yes, your Honor." The baliff took the paper, gave it to the judge who read it, handed it back to the baliff who handed it back to Keys.

"If you will please read your verdict to this court."

Keys looked at the defendant, a 16 year old girl that looked so young, pure and innocent, like a member of the Amish community in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. He then looked at the plaintiff, a man of about 55 seated in a wheelchair with his right leg in a cast and wearing a neck brace.

"We, the jury, find the defendant……..

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cliffhanger!!!!! That's for those that didn't review! Hehehe

Yes, I am evil and sadistic like that…but you'll just have to wait and see what the verdict is!

Heheheheeeeeeeee doing witch cackle 


	19. Kathi's Secret

**CHAPTER NINETEEN** – Kathi's Secret

"…Not guilty."

There was a collective sigh from the onlookers in the back of the room, more than likely the defendants' family. The defendant herself almost collapsed into her chair with relief before her attorney grabbed her for support. The plaintiff, on the other hand, threw a fit and had to be rushed out quickly by his attorney shouting something to the effect of, "This isn't over!"

The jurors were escorted out of the room and into the conference room to gather their things. A few talked amongst themselves at how well it turned out and relieved for the 16 year-old. House grabbed his – well, nothing of his was left in the room. It was an excuse to get something from Kathi. He saw her talking to Stacy and his heart dropped.

'_What kind of lies is Stacy saying? Damn, I'm SOL now!'_

House turned to walk out feeling as if he'd been badly defeated when he heard his name called out. He turned to see Stacy walk towards him with a smile on her face, and Stacy walking behind her.

"Greg, you did good," Stacy told him, but didn't get too close to him. "Take care of yourself." She turned to Kathi and said, "Nice to meet you. And good luck." Stacy gave House a smile and walked out of the room.

'_Oh, god. Well, nice to have known you, Kathi,' _he thought.

House and Kathi stood staring at each. He was speechless because he was afraid the two women had talked about him and his chances with her were shot; she was speechless because she had something to tell him that she didn't want to, especially not this soon after just meeting one another.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

And the torturing continues!! And yes, I am doing it on purpose. I've run out of my vicodin and need to express my anger somehow – oh, wait, I'm not House. Never mind.


	20. Everything To Do With Fate

**CHAPTER TWENTY** – Everything To Do With Fate

"Okay, by your silence I guess you talked to Stacy. And I'm sorry you did because whatever she said is a total lie and you shouldn't believe her because she's a pathological liar and …" House rambled before Kathi interrupted him.

"Greg, would you shut up?" she said with a laugh. "We didn't talk about you. The thing is…"

"Wanna get something to eat? I'm starving. I'll pay, even though I'm sure Stacy said I never paid for any meal in my life."

House had to interrupt her because he figured if he changed the subject and had just a few more minutes to win her over he'd have a better chance of winning. It suddenly hit him that his leg was throbbing and he grimaced in pain. He rubbed his leg hard and looked at the nearest chair, which was only feet away but too far for him, as far as he was concerned.

Kathi shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I told you, we didn't talk about you. Since when does the world revolve around you anyway?"

"Uh, touché. I'm hungry for Italian. What about you?" House asked.

"I don't have time. See, the thing is I'm moving and have to get home and finished packing. My brother got me a job as Admin As't to Norland Music Company in Baltimore. This trial has set me back more than a week."

House was dumbfounded. He wasn't expecting that. Stacy telling Kathi he was a loser and a poor excuse for a man he was expecting. But her moving? _'That's why Stacy said 'good luck.''_

The baliff stuck his head in the door to see if the room was clear, and when he saw the two standing alone he ordered them out. House was limping badly and concern crossed Kathi's face as they walked out into the cool, crisp air of the late autumn day.

"Really, I can't. I've got to be there in three days."

House's heart sank. He didn't stand a chance. It had nothing to do with Stacy; nothing to do with his attitude because Kathi always had a comeback. But it did have everything to do with fate.

"Okay," House said. He turned and took a few steps, painful steps, but steps away from her, nonetheless.

"You're gonna give up just like that? No begging? No frenzied tantrum you're going to throw? Come on, Greg. I thought you were more of a fighter than that."

At first he ignored her but then stopped, turned around and walked back to her. "I don't have to beg. Usually the woman begs, if you know what I mean?" he said seriously but flirtatiously.

"Uh, right. Begs you to stop asking them out or to get off of them?"

"Okay, ok, enough already. You win! I asked, you said no. 'Nuf said." House said, a bit of anger in his voice.

"Damn," Kathi said, brushing the hair away from her eyes from the wind picking up a bit. "Look, this isn't turning out the way I thought. It's getting cold. We're both tired and hungry. Let's get something to eat and call it a day, huh? I'm sorry. I guess you aren't the type to play games."

House looked at her and considered what she'd said. "No, I don't like games. The games I like are the ones that I can win."

"Come on. Let's go," Kathi said with a sheepish grin on her face. She watched him carefully. _'What a pig-headed man! Just the way I like 'em.'_

"No, I'm not hungry now."

"Yes, you are," Kathi argued.

"Am not."

"Are to! Oh, wait, I get it. You just want to drive. Fine, drive."

House finally gave it. He'd won after all. He had it in the bag the whole time. Kathi just didn't know what hit her.

The two walked to the parking garage where his car was parked while Kathi talked the whole way. "…I can't believe you knew she was innocent by the light signals. I must say I am very impressed, as was the rest of the juror."

"Yeah, well, I'm an observer."

That was the truth. There are two types of people: 'Watchees,' ones that throw themselves into the action without thinking anything of it, while the 'Watchers' stand back and watch for a long time, not even wanting to get in the center of attention. They thrived on knowing their opponents' next move, and the first step in that was to observe.

And Dr. Gregory House was the Master of Observation.

"Oh, and it's 57," Kathi said out of the blue.

House stopped and looked at her, confusion written on his face. _'The dream. We were…debating whether it was Heinz 57 or Heinz 58, which it _is_ 58. How in the hell…'_

They continued walking as House fished in his pocket for the keys to his car, still thinking.

What they didn't know was there were footsteps behind them that neither one of them heard.

When they did hear them, it was too late.

Both were down on the ground seconds later. One had blood running from their ear and the other was moaning loudly and writhing in pain, holding their stomach and feeling the blood coarse through their fingers.

"No…no…don't do this…" moaned the one holding their stomach.

"Oh, shut UP!" the attacker said as he kicked the one that protested in the small of the back.

A yelp echoed through the garage, which was almost vacant on this particular floor.

'_Cameras…there has to be cameras…'_ they thought. _'It'll be fine…fine…someone here soon.' _

Darkness overcame the one just beaten as the last words they heard were, "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!"


	21. Cardiac Arrest Duo

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – **Cardiac Arrest Duo

"What's the blood pressure?" the lead doctor in the ER ordered. He and a team of nurses were working on a male patient who received a severe blow to the back of the head causing bleeding from the ear.

"168/86, pulse steady," replied a nurse.

"Ok, get an MRI on the head to check for any bleeding. How's the other one?" he asked a nurse. He was referring to the other patient on the other side of the room; the two had been brought in together. The second person also had a team of nurses and doctors working on her after they'd done xrays and an MRI.

"Dr. Mason, we need you! We're losing her!" a nurse cried out from the other patient's gurney.

Dr. Mason rushed over and frantically worked on reviving her. He started checking certain areas of her midsection to ascertain whether there was internal bleeding in any major organs.

"Get some more O positive in here, NOW! We've got to stop this bleeding."

"Dr. Mason, all the blood we've been giving her just comes out somewhere else!" a nurse commented as she readjusted the oxygen tubes that were in her nostrils.

Dr. Mason worked frantically on the woman who'd now gone into cardiac arrest from all the blood loss. Once a heart beat was established and her stats were back to normal the doctor asked, "Is the surgical team ready? We need to find the bleed or she'll bleed to death."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

An hour later, Drs. Cuddy and Wilson stood in the observation booth overlooking the surgery being performed on Kathi Gilmore.

"Do you think she'll make it?" Cuddy asked worriedly.

"I don't know. The knife wound was pretty deep and her spinal cord was damaged from the blow to her lower back. If she does make it, she'll be a paraplegic."

"I heard House is doing fine. He has a concussion but …" Cuddy's words were cut off by the sudden high pitched whine of the heart monitor indicating she was in b-fib.

"PADDLES, NOW!" screamed the surgeon. A second later he barked, 'CLEAR!' He shocked her heart for the second time but with no immediate change in sinus rhythm.

"AGAIN! CLEAR!" Again her heart was shocked.

"AGAIN, DAMNIT!" Heart shocked.

"AGAIN - 350!" Heart shocked.

Dr. Cuddy held her breath. Dr. Wilson was silent as he watched the scene below. _'Come on, Kathi. Don't do this to House. I think he likes you…"_ he thought to himself.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Kathi oddly enough became increasingly more aware of the pressure being placed on her chest, over her heart, and the shocks that reverberated through her entire body. But the thing is there was no pain - anywhere, including her lower back. Her back really hurt before. It felt like her spinal column was an accordion and the Spine Gods were playing an evil demon tune of Death. But now there was no pain at all. Her body felt light, almost tingly and numb, but not to the point of pain. Her shoulders were so relaxed she swore they were left on the table …

'_Table? What table? Where am I? What happened?_' Shetried to scream but nothing came out.

Suddenly she saw something that chilled her to the bone: she was looking down on an operating table where a doctor was attempting to bring back a woman from cardiac arrest by a deliberator. She was shocked four, five, six times with no result. She heard the whine of the heart monitor in that monotone whistle and it dawned on her.

'_No, no. This isn't happening. No way. I can't be…dead.'_

She looked up in the corner of the room and saw a man and a woman, whom she didn't know, practically glued to the glass of the observation deck.

'_HEY! I'm over here! Do something! Bring me back! I don't want to die!!!'_

No such luck, none whatsoever.

A soft, deep, sexily familiar voice brought her attention to a spot high up on the ceiling. "Don't worry, Kathi. Follow me." His voice was chilling, yet almost heavenly, like an angel singing with 100 flutes as accompaniment.

"It's okay, Kathi. You won't feel any pain anymore. I don't. Follow me," he said.

In another part of the hospital, as if there was a giant vacuum cleaner on the table where his body was, House was sucked back into his body, his own body that was lying on the gurney still in the ER.

'_Kathi…Kathi!! Where did you go?!' Kathi??!!'_

"He's back!" he heard someone say.

Soon the voices disappeared as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Up in the observation deck, Wilson's pager went off. He quickly grabbed it and panicked as he read the message to Cuddy. "They just brought House back from cardiac arrest. Same as … Kathi." He said that last word with major relief as he looked at her on the table.

And sure enough, her heartbeat was regulating and the surgeon was able to find and stop the bleed.

House, on the other hand, continued to have blood build up in his brain at a dangerous rate.

"Damnit! Let's get him in surgery before he's a vegetable!" Screamed Dr. Mason. "We've got to stop that bleeding!"


	22. The Next 24 Hours

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO** – The Next 24 Hours

A moan escaped his lips as he fought to take a breath, but to him it sounded more like a muffled groan, or was it that his ears were just ringing so loud all sound was distorted? With his eyes closed he mentally took in what body parts he could feel and which ones he couldn't feel.

All ten fingers and all ten toes moved – check.

Wrists and ankles work – check.

Head – tight, hard to move, hurt.

A sharp pain shot through the back of his head and migrated down his shoulders into his back. He realized he had the worst headache he'd ever had in his entire life. He tried to swallow but something prevented him from doing so. He tried to open his eyes but they wouldn't move. He moaned again, this time louder than he'd done before.

He felt something on his forearm but couldn't tell what it was. The pressure would intensify then something let out a brief hiss, the pressure released and all was back to feeling like a forearm should feel. It dawned on him that it was the automatic blood pressure cuff that took his pressure every five minutes.

He heard his name being called yet it sounded so far away. Slowly the voice became louder and he fought with all his might to respond.

"Don't swallow. You have a breathing tube in. Don't try to talk," the voice said. To House it sounded like a chipmunk, but the more they spoke the voice became more recognizable. Wilson. It was Wilson.

"Try to open your eyes, House. Come on, you can do it." That second sentence ticked House off, though he didn't know why. _'Oh, I remember. Stuart Little…no, Tony Little, that weight lifter guru guy, as annoying as he is…GET OUTTA MY…'you can DOOOO it!'_

"House, open your eyes. Move your fingers again if you can hear me." That was a second voice, one which he recognized right away. It was Cuddy.

Slowly he wiggled his right thumb then kept it at the 'thumbs up' position, indicating he was okay. He moaned again and started to choke. Cuddy immediately removed the tube from his throat and wiped his chin of a little blood from the back of his throat (that was normal).

"Greg, get some sleep," Cuddy told him as she lovingly rubbed his left cheek.

He wanted to ask how Kathi was but he still couldn't talk. He remembered something strange regarding seeing her in some weird, 60's acid hallucination but he shrugged it off to all the drugs he'd taken.

He still hadn't opened his eyes. He tried to smile. He thought he had smiled, but he didn't. He slowly drifted off to sleep again.

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Down the hall in the I.C.U., Kathi was also hooked up to monitors that kept track of her vital signs, but was on many more than House was. She'd come out of the surgery in one piece, although worse for wear. Her blood pressure had stayed at a lower reading than the doctors cared to see it, yet her bleeding was under control. She was still out from the anesthesia which was acceptable to her doctors.

Her condition was critical, but guarded. The next 24 hours would determine exactly how she would be.


	23. A NOTE TO ALL from jazelle

A/N: I think I need to explain something based on reviews I've gotten. I know I've made it a bit sketchy and/or confusing, so here is a little info to straighten things out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

House having a 22-yr old sister that was killed will be explained later;

Heinz 57/58 will be explained later, including in dream and Kathi comments '57' OUTSIDE of dream;

The dream sequence: when it started and when it ended will be explained very soon (I've even confused myself on that one! LOL);

The 2 attackers: House had the severe blow to the head while Kathi was the one shot.

IF I'VE LEFT ANY THING OUT, PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I'LL ADD THEM!!!


	24. Awakenings

**OKAY, SLIGHT CORRECTION: Kathi was not shot---she was stabbed. Since I didn't specify what happened I could change her from being shot to stab. Cuz, with stabbing there sooo much more blood…but I digress. :o) ENJOY**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE** – Awakenings

Early the next morning Cuddy sat beside House's bed in ICU eagerly waiting for him to come around. A groan, a moan, heck, even being cursed out is something she'd be happy to hear from him. She sat next to his bed with her arm on the mattress, head cradled at the elbow only inches from his hand and she wanted to sleep. But it eluded her. She just stared at his hand; she hadn't held his hand, although she wanted to, but she didn't. She knew he didn't like to be touched, even if he was out, but she respected that about him.

The room was quiet…too quiet._ 'Damned power must have gone off—I don't hear my alarm. Guess I better get up and go to work…wait, something isn't right.' _House groaned softly as he tried to figure out where he was. _'I don't remember drinking last night…wait, I was with…'_

"Ka…theeee…," he croaked.

Cuddy's head shot up when she heard his voice. "House?"

He tried to open his eyes but they felt glued shut. His chest felt tight, something was in his nose, his head hurt, his throat hurt, but his head hurt worse. He couldn't turn his head to look at her because of the neck brace he had on, though he had no idea why it was there.

"Hou…Greg, take it easy. You're in ICU."

With his eyes closed he frowned at hearing 'ICU.' He parted his lips again and only mumbled Kathi's name again.

"She's fine," she lied, swallowing hard at lying to him. She hated lying, but most of the time when she lied to House there was a good reason for it. Now, there didn't seem to be a good reason for it.

He finally opened his eyes and let them slowly focus on Cuddy's face. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

"What happened?"

She didn't answer but stood and flashed a small pen light into his eyes but he didn't follow the light. "How's your head feeling?"

"Oh, is it still attached? And why the brace?"

She snickered softly and smiled. "Yes, you're head is connected but the brace is to keep it there," she said with a small laugh. "You have a severe concussion. Do you remember what happened?" she asked again. He thought hard for a minute but didn't answer her. "You do know to follow the light, don't you?"

"No, I have memory loss," he said as he did follow the light, although it was painful.

"Good, then we can reprogram you. We can make you bettah. But you're going to be here until we can determine if there are any long lasting effects. And even when you go home you're going to need to have someone at home with you for two days. I'll get you a nurse…"

"No…no, you won't. I'll go home now. I feel fiii…," he muttered as he tried to sit up, but vertigo and nausea hit him severely and he crashed back down on the pillow.

"You are going to have to take it easy, even if we have to keep you sedated until you go home. Hey, that's a good idea after all," she said with a smile as she put the pen away. "Any nausea?"

House tried to shake his head but groaned as the pain shot down the back of his neck into his spine. Without a word Cuddy unlocked the I.V. box and upped his morphine. "This should help."

"How's Kathi?" he moaned and he became sleepy from the morphine.

Cuddy avoided his question because she knew he wasn't ready to hear how badly she was injured. She also knew he wouldn't let it go unanswered but she tried anyway. "Get some rest, Greg."

"No, how is she?" he demanded more forcibly.

"She spent 3-1/2 hours in surgery with Dr. Pike trying to repair the damage…"

"WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?" he yelled at her. The look in his eyes frightened her.

"Greg, she was stabbed. The blade severed her liver." He looked at her blankly. She tried to read his thoughts but she couldn't, even if most times she could. All she knew was that it scared her. "And you need to calm down. You're not doing yourself any good getting all riled up."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Is she going to be alright?"

Cuddy hesitated a moment but kept her voice soft and calm. "We won't know for a day or so, same as you. You need to get worry about yourself first."

House sighed deeply. No, he would worry about her first, which just wasn't like him. His thoughts drifted off as the morphine did its job. Cuddy was relieved; it had gone better than she'd thought. She was tired and hungry but she had to get someone to watch him, not that the nurses couldn't. But she wanted someone to keep her constantly notified of his condition.

Before she left she gently unhooked the brace and slid her hand behind his head. The bandage was still dry so that was a good thing. But what worried her was the fact that he winced when she applied a little bit of pressure to the wound. That could mean blood was building up at the site.

"God, I hope not."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ok, my faithful readers…………who shall watch House for 48 hours when he is released in a later chapter? Here are your options:

Cuddy, Wilson, or any of the 3 ducklings???????


	25. The Critter Formerly Known as Tritter

**THIS IS A SPOILER FOR EPISODE SHOWN NOV 14TH, WHERE HOUSE CURES 'VEGETATIVE STATE GUY' (NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH OUR BELOVED COMA GUY) AND THE TRIPLETS ARE INTERVIEWED BY TRITTER.**

**I'M SORRY TO EVEN HAVE TO MENTION TRITTER, BUT THAT IDIOT MORON BRINGS OUT ANGST IN ALL OF US. AND DON'T WORRY, HE HAS NO SPEAKING LINES. HE'S JUST PUT IN FRONT OF A FIRING SQUAD AND SHOT! Ok, not really.**

**MORE IMPORTANTLY, THIS CHAPTER/REST OF STORY IS SET ONE YEAR LATER DURING THE TIME HOUSE WAS IN ALL THE TROUBLE WITH TRITTER. WHILE PARTS ARE INDEED SPOILERS, ALL BUT THE ABOVE DETAILED INFORMATION IS MADE UP BY ME.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR** – The Critter Formerly Known as Tritter

A few minutes later Cuddy left House's room and headed to Kathi's to check on her condition. It was only after she took a step into her empty room that she remembered Kathi was still in surgery. Two vertebrae at the L-4 were fractured and parts of them were compromising the spinal cord. Undoubtedly, paralysis would be devastating to anyone. But that was just one of Kathi's problems.

The most life threatening problem was to find a liver donor for a transplant due to her severed liver, which had to be secured within the next 12 hours, the most critical. Cuddy picked up the phone in Kathi's room and called the Transplant Committee to schedule a meeting later that afternoon to consider bumping Kathi up on the list. If that was successful, she could only hope to find a compatible liver in time, but realistically, she couldn't be sure.

As she hung up the phone, she suddenly realized how tired she was – no, exhausted: she was both physically and emotionally drained. And she was terribly hungry. But she still had a hospital to run. She considered her options and worked on several plans to work around the coming weekend for people to be with House while he recouped, _if_ he was able to return home for the weekend.

Cuddy knew House had a certain attachment to Kathi, although she couldn't pinpoint the reason why. As usual, he kept his 'love interests' to himself. The urgency in finding the liver wasn't really for Kathi's benefit, but for House's. She asked herself why she let that bother her, but there was no magical voice that whispered the answer into her ear. All she could do was do the best that she could and hope for better.

"Cuddy?" She heard her name being called from the door and only then realized she had been staring blankly out the window. She turned around to see Wilson standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. "I hear you don't like burnt sandwiches. I hope this is good," he said as he nodded his head towards the hallway and took a few steps out.

A few minutes later the pair was seated in Cuddy's office.

"Thanks. I was hungrier than I thought."

She ate her sandwich in silence as Wilson watched her until she was finished and threw the cling wrap in the trash. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you did eat that. I'll go check on Kathi's status in surgery," Wilson said as he attempted to stand.

"Wilson, stay," Cuddy asked as she leaned back in the chair and Wilson sat back down. "Has security checked the surveillance video in the parking garage of the courthouse?" she asked hopefully.

Wilson could only shrug his shoulders because he did not know anything. He knew the security team was not obligated to provide anyone outside the police department any information on the case. What they both needed was an answer as to who it was that had attempted murder and the reason why.

Could it have been Moriarty, the man that shot him almost two years earlier? If it was him he would have had to be tracking House, known his every move at all times. But if it was him, why hadn't he killed House? Isn't that what all deranged homosapiens feel the need to do? House only got a pipe to the head, which was found discarded several parking spots away. But Kathi took the worst of it. Was it to destroy anyone that meant anything to House? And if so, why? Was it instead someone Kathi knew that had a personal vendetta against her?

After Wilson's thoughts settled he said, "Do you think Tritter had anything to do with it?"

"It's possible. If the person was looking to scare either one of them, they did an excellent job," Cuddy said.

"Well, consider how pissed he was after what House did to him last year."

_A YEAR EARLIER:_

"I want to speak to Tritter, now," House demands of the man behind the front desk at the police station on Elm Avenue.

The man behind the desk gives him a puzzled look before he picks up the phone, speaks a few words, smiles and tells House that Tritter will be out shortly and to have a seat, which he does.

An hour passes.

Another hour passes. House becomes more agitated and wonders if maybe he's made a bad mistake by coming to confront Tritter.

"Dr. House?" the clerk calls out. House stands and approaches the desk. "You may see him now. He's in conference room 136 – down the hall, room is on the left."

House nods his head and heads down the hall. He sees the room number on the wall by the door and walks in, only to find Tritter sitting smugly in a chair and grinning devilishly.

"You know I waited two hours out there for you," House says angrily and in the same tone Tritter used only a few short weeks earlier. He doesn't sit in a chair, as he feels he has more control and power over Tritter by standing and staring down at the moron.

"And as I recall I waited two hours for you when I had that infection," Tritter snips.

"You were lucky it was only two hours. People have _died_ waiting to be seen after seven – eight hours. And like I said, it wasn't an infection. It was the nicotine gum. You might have been better off not quitting. You're more pompous when you aren't smoking."

"What do you want?" Tritter asks angrily.

"I want you to lay off Wilson and my team," House orders.

"Okay, fine. I'm done with them anyway."

House is surprised he's given in so easily. After a moment of thought he says, "And lay off my boss, too." That seems to strike a nerve in Tritter.

"Oh, she was the easiest to manipulate. She gave me lots of answers that I wanted to hear. Why do you think she didn't allow you to use that man's heart for his son? She had to follow the rules. Oh, and me being in her office when you called had something to do with it, too."

House feels his cheeks become red hot, as if he is a giant, walking, talking, breathing thermometer. "What is your problem and why are you targeting me?"

"I'm not attacking you. I'm simply doing my job," Tritter replies.

"Then why haven't you found the guy that shot me?"

"Oh, we know where he is."

House frowns. "And?"

"And, what?"

"Why haven't you gotten him, yet?"

"We will."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't have to explain a damned thing to you," Tritter says as he stands. The two men are now on equal ground.

"You've frozen Wilson's bank accounts and he has no where to live; Cameron and Foreman's accounts were also frozen and there is absolutely no reason why. What have I done to you to make my life a living hell?"

"Didn't you think you were already in hell?"

"Cut the crap, Tritter! You think that being more than a pain in the ass to me will make me crack and get on one knee and make all my confessions to you? That won't happen," House says as he takes one step closer to him.

"You and I are a rare breed, House. We are more alike than you'd like to think. That gives me an advantage over you. I'm one step ahead of you, and I _will_ bury you," Tritter says, not moving an inch.

House narrows his eyes and says, "You may be one step ahead of me, but trust me, I may have this cane but I will catch up sooner than you think. And you won't like where the cane ends up."

House angrily turns and walks out the door before Tritter can respond. House has the last word. He always has to have the last word. He feels his heart beating hard and heavy in his chest as he walks out of the police station after the altercation. As he approaches his bike he sees a small slip of paper taped to the seat. He picks up the paper and reads, then curses out loud. It is a ticket for an expired county sticker, and no wonder-he already knows who signed it before he looks at the issuing officer's name: 'M. Tritter.'


	26. 25

**Thanks for everyone's reviews and input on who shall stay with House while he recoups at home..IF he recoups from home. One person had obviously the most votes, so that person will have more time with House…IF he recoups from home. But I don't want to give to much away so I'll shut up now.**

**OH---and I'm really hating naming my chapters, so from now on I am only putting the Chapter number, no name.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

_CONT'D FLASHBACK FROM LAST YEAR:_

House grins, but it isn't a funny grin. It is a grin as conniving, evil, and malicious as the Grinch as he anxiously await the Who's in Who'sville to come out into the courtyard on Christmas morning and discover he had taken every single item that represents the holiday.

House looks around; there are no more than two cops in the immediate area, and none in the parking lot. He stands by his bike pretending to fix something on the engine as he scours the lot for Tritter's car. He eventually finds it. He looks at the building and discovers that two huge Oak trees block the views from any windows to the lot and slowly, sneakily, creeps over to Tritter's car. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his Swiss Army knife that his dad bought him on his 16th birthday and expertly jigs the key lock until it springs open.

A few minutes later he is driving down Interstate 15 toward Kennedy Park which has a small lake, as well as a little hidden alcove that has just enough space for the size of a mid-sized vehicle, the same size as the car he is driving – Tritter's car …

_CURRENT TIME:_

"Man, Tritter was hot when he came in the next morning and accused House," Wilson said with a hearty laugh.

"It wasn't funny then but yeah, it's funny now. House almost ended up in jail if it weren't for the fact that Tritter had absolutely _no_ proof whatsoever that House stole the car. Tritter even tried to sue House for the water damage to the car, but I thought he was a lot smarter than that," Cuddy said.

"Apparently not if…" Wilson was cut off by a light tap on the door and as Cuddy looked toward the door she waved Cameron in.

"Just thought I'd let you know Kathi is out of surgery. She's doing well but is in guarded condition," she told them.

"Have you been in to see House yet?" Cuddy asked her. She shook her head. "Good. I was in there earlier and … wait a second." Cuddy picked up the phone, called the nurse's station outside of House's room, asked a few questions then hung up.

Cuddy continued: "I'm worried … you and Foreman check for increased intracranial pressure or decreased brain functions – I mean, worse mentally than he normally is. I think he may already have cerebral edema, especially at the site of the wound. Also check for lobar intracerebral hemorrhage as well as the thalamus, basal ganglia, pons, or cerebellum. Get a CBC, platelet count, bleeding time and another MRI. He should still be knocked out from the morphine I gave him earlier, but if he acts up, you have my permission to knock him out again."

Cameron nodded to her and left the room. She was glad Cuddy asked her to run the tests because now she had an excuse to be there, which meant House couldn't accuse her of being by his side just for the sake of being by his side. She headed down to the lab to get a cart and the test kits and was surprised when she spotted Chase sitting at a microscope looking at a slide.

She opened the door and walked in. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, running tests _and _I work here," he told her as he looked up from the slide.

"Hey, I need your help with House," she said as she came into the room and stood next to him.

"He may be about 15 years older than me with a bum leg but I'm pretty sure he could still take me," Chase said with a laugh.

She gathered the kits needed and headed out of the lab with Chase in tow. After they got on the elevator Cameron paged Foreman to meet them in House's room. But what they didn't know was that he was already there, but not of his own free will either.

House had given him $50 to stay with him and play World Poker Tour on his GameBoy (of which Foreman would later collect from Wilson, per House's instructions). But unfortunately for House, whenever he had a winning hand, the heart monitor he was connected to would beep wildly, giving away his hand. But of course, House never gave up and only tried harder to control his breathing and heart rate to con the heart monitor.

"Foreman, why didn't you answer my page?" she asked as they entered the room and pulled the cart beside House's bed.

"Because I was already here," he answered before he handed House the GameBoy.

"That's no excuse to be rude…"

"Okay, kiddies, there is no fighting in my room!" House interjected.

Cameron looked at Chase and he at she. She gave him a look that conveyed, 'No, there is no bleeding in his brain. He was his normal, snarky self.'

"House, how are you feeling? Do you have a headache, blurry vision, or anything out of the norm?" Cameron asked.

"eeehhh, yes…" House groaned as his head fell back on the pillow.

"What? What is it?" Cameron asked alarmed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sorry this is so short but I'm at work and can't finish the chapter just yet. So I thought I'll leave y'all with a little taste of……..

ANGST! MwaaaHahahahaha!


	27. Chapter 26

**Thanks for all the reviews! I know I've teetered off the jury duty theme, as the title implied, but my thoughts just keep rambling, which isn't a good thing sometimes.**

**I haven't gotten to the explanations that I'm getting questioned on by some confused readers (lol-can't say as I blame ya) so here's a little more that I promise will be explained. Besides, I like making House vulnerable.**

**Please, please, continue to ask me questions if I've 'gone off message' and have confused anyone again!!!**

**Reality: Kathi was indeed stabbed, House indeed has a concussion from the back of his head kissing a metal pipe and they both are indeed in the ICU; House DID roll Tritter's car into the lake the year before**

**To be explained: (1) Heinz 57 thing that they both shared – but that was during the hallucination in which after that Kathi made the same comment. (2) When they were both attacked by 'the people yet to be named', they did both share an out of body experience where they 'journied together' when they both flat-lined. That also will leave a nice conflict in faith about the after-life. **

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

……"What? What is it?" Cameron asked alarmed.

"My head does hurt, I'm hallucinating because you all are here and it isn't normal that I'm lying here in this god forsaken bed while my three cottages are staring down at me!" House barked.

"Get over it," Cameron answered. Foreman shot a glance at Chase that he was impressed at her assertiveness, which she had shown quite a bit of lately. "Sorry to disrupt your poker game but Cuddy wants us to get some blood work and then an MRI."

"What if I say no?" House challenged.

"Then I will happily release more morphine into your I.V., wait until you are out, get the blood, MRI _and _shave every bit of hair off your chest, legs and back," Foreman answered, happy to join the 'Bash Your Boss' game.

"Hey, yeah. Then we'll glue that hair to the top of your balding head!" Chase chimed in.

But the looks from his boss and his two coworkers told him he'd gone one step too far, as usual, and sulked back against the wall out of embarrassment.

"Okay, but tell me how Kathi is," House said.

Cameron set up everything to get House's blood; while she worked to draw his blood she said, "She got out of surgery about half hour ago. From the severe trauma to her spine, two vertebrae at the L-4 were fractured but they were replaced with cadaver bones which released the pressure off her spinal cord. They won't know if there is any paralysis until she wakes up from surgery, and that won't be for a while now. The doctor has her heavily sedated." She threw the vial of blood onto the cart and withdrew another one, filling that one, too, of House's blood.

"She was…stabbed, wasn't she?" House asked nervously. Cameron simply nodded her head. "And?" There were several seconds of silence in the room. "God, just _tell_ me!"

Cameron threw the second vial onto the cart, turned and looked at him, speaking softly. "House, she needs a new liver. It was severed from the stab wound. Cuddy was able to bump her up on the list but there's no guarantee…"

"Give her part of mine."

She couldn't believe she heard that coming from the man. "House, you're suffering from a concussion and I think right now delirium. You can't donate your liver."

"I don't need the whole thing," House stated. "Test my liver function."

Cameron looked at her two coworkers for support, in which she received none. She looked back at House. "That's absolutely ridiculous. No, I won't."

"I may be lying on this bed but I am still your boss. Test me."

Cameron and House locked eyes for what seemed longer than the several seconds it actually took. She turned, noisily picked up another vial and syringe and silently took one last vial of blood. As she left the room pulling the cart she said, "I wonder if I have enough blood to test for stupidity."

Chase and Foreman looked at each other confused, while House just laughed and said jokingly, "She loves me, I _know _she does."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Several hours later, House had just woken up after getting the cranial MRI scan from Foreman and Chase. He wanted to harass the pair while it was being done but for some reason he was extremely sleepy and slept through the entire procedure, no doubt to the glee of the two. It was shortly after 8pm and things were quiet in his room and he was getting ansy about Kathi. He wanted to see her, but instructions directly from Cuddy were for him to remain in his room. _'Just like her; like I'd ever leave the room against her wishes.'_

And yes, he would have, if it wasn't for the fact that when he tried to sit up in bed and put both of his legs on the floor to stand, he became extremely dizzy. He gripped the side of the mattress with both hands to gain control but he couldn't. He felt his face flush, when in reality it was actually paling, his head throbbed terribly and he lost almost all of his hearing, but only for a brief moment. He knew he was going to pass out if he didn't lie back down on the bed, which he did, slowly and painfully.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Down in the lab, Chase, Foreman and Cameron were just completing the tests they had been taken on House earlier that day. It took them longer than anticipated because there was a breakout of strep throat in most of the schools in the county which caused an overflow in the lab.

A heavy sigh came from Foreman then he said, "He's not going to hear that he does have slight intracranial bleeding. We'll have to get that controlled before he can go home. I know he's already whining about that. And I sure as hell don't want to babysit him this weekend.

"Oh, hot date with Wendy, again?" Chase asked. Foreman didn't answer but from the stare he gave him Chase knew it was better for him if he shut up. So, he changed the subject rather quickly.

"I wonder why House has taken such an interest in that other patient, Kathi," Chase wondered out loud. He was directing his question at Cameron to see her reaction. She said she was over him, but Chase couldn't be sure of that. That was a year ago and he knew feelings change, just as his had over Cameron. He knew she liked House, that was apparent, but he wasn't willing, or strong enough, to fight House for her.

Cameron remained quiet and at first Chase thought his ponder went unnoticed until Foreman said, "Because she puts up with him."

"Puts up with him?" Cameron asked. "More like is just as stupid as House is…oh, damn." Both Chase and Foreman looked more intensely at Cameron. "There's no cirrhosis of the liver but enyzmes Aspartate Transaminase were detected in his blood and Alanine Transaminase levels are high; red blood cells are normal so it hasn't affected his kidneys…_yet_. He'll need to be kept on oxygen for at least 24 hours and with the bleeding he'll have to have someone with him at all times. Well, Foreman, looks like Wendy is going to have to be disappointed. We'll have to take turns here in the hospital."

"No way! I am NOT a nurse!" Foreman blurted out.

"Foreman, don't be so ungrateful. The man saved your life, remember?" she snipped snottily without looking at him. "I'll call Cuddy and give her the results. I suggest we all go home, get some comfortable clothes and a good book to read and be back here at 9:00."

"Who's going to tell House?" Chase asked.

"I will." The voice came from the opened lab door and Cuddy was standing there. She was wearing sweats, a sweater, sneakers and holding a small duffle bag.

"How long have you been standing there? What are you doing here? I was going to call you," Cameron said.

"Enough to hear he's finally messed up his liver with overdoing the vicodin. And I wanted to check on House. A phone call would be too impersonal. Besides, I can't harass him over the phone, now can I?" she joked. "You're right, Cameron. I'll get him started on Carsil and Silymarin. You three go home and get something to eat and pack. Chase, be back here at midnight; Foreman, you be here at 4:00am and Cameron, you get 4-8."

As the Housekateers walked out of the lab, Foreman was muttering curse words under his breath, Chase was trying to eavesdrop on Foreman's mumbling to see what he was complaining about and Cameron was bouncing on her toes with glee.


	28. 27

**Sorry it's been so long since I've posted…with Thanksgiving and all I've enjoyed the time to relax. Hope everyone had a good Holiday, too! Any reviews are always welcomed, appreciated, and cried over. lol**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Elsewhere in Jersey that early evening, Wilson sat on the couch in his living room and stared out the window at the lights reflecting off the windows of the parked cars and busy restaurants across the street. Conditions of the divorce with Julie were finally settled, and the papers had been signed the week before. House wanted to take him out to celebrate, but Wilson didn't look at the divorce as a celebration, but more of as a defeat.

He was lonely. He was tired. He was tired of being lonely. He just wanted the perfect life, a better life: happily married, couple of kids, maybe a dog but definitely some fish … he jumped as his cell phone vibrated on the table – the volume was off but he kept the vibrating option on. He didn't bother looking at it but continued to stare out the window and lose himself in his own thoughts.

A few minutes later the phone vibrated again. He glanced at it only to reach it to throw it across the room when he saw Cuddy's number as the caller and decided to answer, reluctantly of course.

"Hey," Wilson said softly and barely audible.

"Hi, James. It's Lisa," she answered back. Ever since they'd gone to that nerve racking dinner and she went the roundabout way of asking him to father her child they'd been on first name basis, although they both said them a bit nervously. "I won't be coming over tonight. House is showing signs of intracranial bleeding and he needs to be on oxygen, fluids, medication and monitored for the weekend. I'm sure he's going to be none too pleased with that, but …"

"Fine," he interrupted.

Cuddy frowned at his shortness, which he'd never been with her. "Are you okay?" He didn't answer. "Well, the others are taking turns and … damn, I screwed up. I'm covering from now 'til midnight, Foreman 12-4am and both Chase and Cameron from 4-8am. I'll have to call one of them…"

"Fine, but I don't see why you have to bother me with all this crap! I really don't care," he snapped, but coming from Wilson, it wasn't meant to be rude, just a bit frustrated.

"James, are you sure you are ok? I can call Chase to cover my shift …"

"I said I'm fine!" he snapped.

"Okay, fine. I'm going to hang up now," she said, and she did, gladly. _'I don't need this…not now, not from him…'_

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Cuddy sighed as she placed the phone on her knee. _'Now it's House's turn; may as well get yelled at by everyone tonight.' _First_ s_he called Chase to take the 9-12 shift which he was fine with, much to Cuddy's delight. But the worst was far from over because she still had to inform the Worst Patient of the Year Award Winner that he wouldn't be going home for a couple of days.

She walked into House's room and was relieved to find him asleep, lying on his left side and hugging the pillow with his right arm. The I.V. needle was taped to the inside of his left arm and he still had the oxygen tube in his nostrils but it was beginning to slip down to his chin. Seeing House like this was a rare treat: he was as vulnerable as a baby and as innocent as a rose – well, not the rose but more of the thorns. The thorns were fine as long as you didn't interfere with them or touch them to prick your finger.

"House?" she said softly as she reached out to touch is elbow. He didn't respond at first but when she said his name again he opened his eyes and looked at her. "How are you feeling? Can you tell me your name? What year is it?"

House frowned as if confused as to why she was asking him the stupid questions, but realization kicked in and he remembered where he was and what had happened. Groggily he said, "Hey."

She smiled at him and told him that his crew would be in to stay with him and she herself would be in at dawn the next morning. Surprisingly, he didn't argue, or complain, or bargain with her. The only thing he wanted to know was how Kathi was.

"I checked on her before I came here because I knew you'd ask. She's awoken a few times and is coherent, but the prognosis on the damage to her vertebrae is not good. She has no feeling below her waist."

"Is … is it permanent?"

"With the extent of the damage, there's a good chance it is. But the most important thing crucial for her survival is acquiring a liver, which we might have for her by the morning. There's a patient over at Jersey General that has just been put on life support; she won't last the night."

"Have they found the culprits yet?" Cuddy forlornly shook her head. "Unbelievable! You have someone like Tritter that goes after a loser … alledged loser … like me for his own self gratification and those bastards are still running free! Figures."

"Don't get yourself all riled up, House. You need to rest," Cuddy said as she looked at her watch. "Chase should be here any minute."

"Not Chase! Couldn't you send Koko the Signing Ape instead?"

Cuddy knew it was too good to be true that he hadn't complained until now but she found herself smiling. "Just pretend he _is_ Koko. You know the drill – he'll be waking you every few hours…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," House said sleepily as he closed his eyes.

"Quick question: Do you know what is bothering Wilson?" she asked before he drifted back off to sleep.

"Mmmppphhh-uhhhmmmppp …" he replied, and she took that as a 'no.'

"Okay. We need to get you on a diuretic and Prednisone for the swelling, Succinimide to prevent any seizures and refill your fluids."

Cuddy left House's room determined to find out what was eating Wilson, and the only solution she had was to go to see him face to face. She walked down the hall and turned the corner that led to the elevators mentally going over what she'd say to him.

What she hadn't seen was the man crouched in the corner by the emergency staircase and watching her walk away. _'Nice view'_, the man thought. He tightly grasped the knife in his hand under his jacket, stood, and headed down the hall to the nurse's station.

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Wilson just finished eating the left over chicken fricaise and rice that he made the night before but never ate it. He wasn't hungry then and he wasn't hungry now. For some reason he felt obligated to go see House but he didn't want to, didn't feel the need to. What he had going through his head was more than he wanted to think about and it scared him. He was never the type for escapism, but he felt the sudden urge and need to now.

Was he crazy for contemplating having a kid with Cuddy? How would he react knowing his coworker was raising his child and he couldn't be the father he'd always wanted to be? He wanted to let Cuddy down gently, but at least he'd made that decision: he wouldn't have a child that he couldn't be a part of raising and to be able to raise as he wanted.

He didn't know what to do. He felt trapped. But he'd been through worse traumas than this, and he'd get through it again.

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Outside in the parking lot, Cuddy parked her car and turned off the lights but didn't immediately leave her car. She had to sit a while to think what she wanted to say to Wilson, and the longer she sat, the less 'words of wisdom' came to her. She took one deep breath, opened the door and walked to Wilson's apartment building.

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Dr. Robert Chase walked into the lobby of PPTH in a foul mood, even though he had eaten, showered and taken a half-hour nap. He was okay with having to get up at 3am to be at the hospital at 4, but when Cuddy called him to come in at 9pm he could only grumble to himself. Chase never faced things up front and avoided them at all costs; he usually put them off as long as he could, but this was one that he couldn't.

He was gratefully relieved when he walked into House's room and found him asleep. He walked to the chair in the corner of the room, set his duffle bag on the floor, pulled out a book and sat down to read for the next four hours. The name of the book was "How to Win Friends and Influence People." If there was any person that was in Chase's life right then that he had to win and influence, it was Dr. Gregory House.

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At the nurse's station nurse Sophie was sitting behind the desk filing through some papers and reading some of them. She looked up toward the sound of a chair leg squeaking on cold, pristine, crystal white hospital tile floor and saw a man now was sitting in House's room, whom she knew to be Dr Robert Chase.

'_He'll be easy to maniplulate,'_ she thought. _'He'll need to make a move soon …'_ Sophie looked up at a shadow in a darkened corner down the hall and nodded her head. Although the shadow was not easily recognized, she knew who it was.

And she knew what he wanted.

And she'd allowed him the opportunity to finally get what he wanted: revenge on Dr. Gregory House.


End file.
